


Okay Computer

by Ionaonie



Category: Chuck (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale & Lydia Martin Friendship, Derek is a government ninja assassin, Derek is a sourwolf, Derek use your words, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, I have no idea where this came from, Lydia is a BAMF, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, POV Stiles, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-06 13:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionaonie/pseuds/Ionaonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently, getting a computer downloaded into your brain is an actual thing that can actually happen. </p><p>Stiles wishes he didn't possess this knowledge first hand. </p><p>He's going to kill Jackson if he ever sees that douchebag again. </p><p>That's if he doesn't get murdered in his sleep by the most terrifying government ninja assassins he's ever met. Not that he's met all that many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a thing I found while looking for something completely different in my fic file. I'd kind of forgotten about it, but I do have a memory of re-watching the Chuck pilot and thinking it'd be hilarious if Stiles was Chuck. So this happened. 
> 
> It's completely unbetaed so if you find any mistakes please let me know. 
> 
> I have no idea how many chapters this will be or how long it will go on for. It just seems to be a thing I play about with when my muse is kicking my ass on my other stories.

‘I have a supercomputer in my head? A computer in my head,’ Stiles repeated, because really, that bore repeating. Many, many times. ‘How does that even work? A computer in my head. You do get how screwed up that is, right? Plus, we’re standing on the top of a building and I nearly got killed. Somebody shot at me. With, like, real bullets and everything.’ 

‘Stiles -’

‘No, like, really. I’m not kidding here. How the hell do I have computer in my head?’ He glared from Lydia - and really, he should have known something was up when an incredibly hot redhead had asked him out on a date - to Derek, who hadn’t stopped scowling yet. 

Derek, who so far didn’t have a last name but did have an epic bitch face. Really. Stiles liked words, but he didn’t think he could find the ones to adequately justify Derek’s bitch face. He’d probably be able to find the words to adequately describe Derek, though. Although at the moment his brain couldn’t get much past the chanting the mantra of: hot and dangerous, hot and dangerous. As long as his brain to mouth filter didn’t short circuit then he’d probably be alright. Although, after the evening he’d just had, alright was a relative term. 

Lydia sighed and threw up her hands, although Stiles got the feeling it wasn’t actually him she was annoyed with this time. ‘Jackson -’

‘Oh my god, it was the email Jackson sent me?’ Stiles felt the first stirrings of anger since his strange-ass day had ended with two of the hottest people he’d ever seen pulling guns on him. ‘Seriously? Although that does make a weird kind of sense. Jackson is always screwing up my life. So, yeah, an email implanting a supercomputer inside my head makes about as much sense as anything today has. Up to and including going on a date with an incredibly hot woman so far out of my league it’s not even funny. I mean, how is this even my life?’ 

Derek turned a long-suffering glare on Lydia. Which was unfair because Derek had known him less than fifteen minutes. That wasn’t enough time for Derek to become long-suffering around Stiles. ‘Can we just tranq him now and lock him away?’ 

‘Tranq me?’ Stiles spluttered. ‘Are you kidding me? What kind of animal are you? Tranq me? Jesus.’ 

Derek ignored him, keeping his attention on Lydia, who apparently had the say-so on whether or not he was going to get tranqed. Seriously. His life. What the fuck?

‘No we can’t,’ Lydia said. Although the look she was leveling in Stiles’ direction suggested she’d be much happier if they could. ‘The powers that be have ordered us to keep him safe.’ She glanced around distastefully. ‘Here.’ 

Derek growled. Honest to god growled. 

‘Oh my god, could you, could you like not do that. It’s very disturbing.’ Stiles wanted to back even further away from the noises coming from Derek’s mouth, but if he did, he’d plunge off the side of a very tall building and that. Well, that would be the icing on a very rotten cake.

‘Shut. Up.’

‘Ha! Like that’s happening any time soon.’ He turned back to Lydia, who was at least telling him stuff. ‘What do you mean by the powers that be? Who the hell are the powers that be? Because I’m guessing they’re not godly gatekeepers.’ 

‘What are you talking about?’ Lydia asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion. Before Stiles could explain she held up a hand. ‘No. Wait. I don’t care what you’re talking about. I only care that you stop talking.’

‘Which would happen if we tranqed him,’ Derek muttered. 

Lydia, though, ignored him. Thank god. 

‘The powers that be, in this case, are the CIA. Me. And the NSA.’ Her lip curled in disgust as she pointed at Derek. ‘Him.’

‘I. What? The CIA and NSA both want what is currently residing in my head?’ 

‘Pretty much.’

‘It’s government property,’ Derek added. 

‘That. That’s very disturbing,’ Stiles said faintly.

Lydia shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’

‘That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your brain. So if you two are the government, who the hell was that crazy blonde who tried to kill me?’ 

‘She.’ Lydia paused. ‘She’s an enemy agent.’ 

‘What? Like the Russians?’

Derek growled. Again. 

‘That’s equally terrifying the second time round,’ Stiles informed him. 

‘Not Russian,’ said Lydia, rolling her eyes. ‘or any foreign national. Domestic.’ 

‘Which means?’ 

Neither Derek or Lydia said anything but they both looked slightly uncomfortable. 

‘I’m standing right here until you tell me. I didn’t know I had this... this Intersect thing in my head until about thirty minutes ago. How the hell did she know before me?’ 

‘’We’re trying to figure that out,’ Lydia admitted. ‘But she doesn’t know about you specifically. only that the Intersect is somewhere in the area.’

‘Oh, well, that makes me feel _so_ much better,’ he muttered, pulling his jacket closer around himself. 

‘Can we just get off this roof?’ Derek demanded. ‘It’s not secure and it’d be a shame to recover the Intersect only for its brains to be splattered all over the place.’

‘Splattered? Who’s splattering my brain? No-one should be splattering my brain anywhere.’ 

Lydia rolled her eyes. ‘Nicely done, Hale. Calming him down again is going to be a bitch.’

‘Oh, I’m not calm. I’m not going to be calm until I’ve told Scott all of this at least a hundred times. Maybe a thousand.’

‘Who’s Scott?’ 

Stiles blinked as Lydia’s sharp voice was drowned out by Derek’s near snarl. 

‘Umm, what?’ 

‘Who the hell is Scott?’ Derek demanded. 

‘Uh, he’s my BFF.’ 

Derek shot him a baffled look that elicited a put upon sigh from Lydia. ‘First off, as much as I hate to admit it, Hale’s right. We need to get you off this roof top. Second of all, how the hell do you not know what BFF stands for?’ 

‘Lydia,’ Derek growled. And Stiles was beginning to realise that perhaps that was just Derek’s default setting: pissed off and growly. 

‘Best friend forever. It stands for best friend forever. Scott is his best friend and he wants to confide in him.’ 

‘He can’t,’ Derek said immediately. 

‘Well, duh.’ 

Stiles took a couple of hesitant steps forward. ‘Uh, guys, why can’t I tell my best friend about the most fucked up day of my life?’ Stiles looked from one secret agent to the other, a sickening feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. There was no way he was going to like the answer, he just knew it. 

‘Because if you do, the government will lock him - and probably you - up forever,’ Lydia said. 

‘But, but, he’s Scott,’ Stiles said, spreading his hands helplessly. ‘I tell him everything. There isn’t a thing he doesn’t know about me. I can’t keep this from him.’ And Stiles started to feel adrift in a day beyond his control for the first time that day.

‘Well, you’re going to have to,’ Lydia said. 

‘But -’ He yelped as a hand gripped the back of his neck tight. Turning his head he could see Derek’s sour face. ‘Dude, what the hell? Also, weren’t you all the way over there a moment ago? Just fyi, you have some terrifying ninja skills.’ 

‘We’re getting you off this roof.’ He yanked Stiles towards him and propelled him towards the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Lydia. ‘Coming?’ 

Heaving a sigh, Lydia holstered her gun and followed. 

Pulling the door open with the hand not manhandling Stiles, Derek leaned in close. ‘If you want to keep your friend safe, you’ll keep this from him.’

‘But -’

‘The US government doesn’t fuck around, Stiles.’ And really, his name shouldn’t sound that awesome coming from that mouth. Especially when he was frightened for his life. ‘If you tell your friend, he’ll never see the light of day again. Just be grateful that we’re not throwing you in some government facility and that you can still see him.’

‘Wow,’ Stiles said, as Derek pushed him through the door. ‘I didn’t think you knew that many words.’ 

Derek glared at him but was interrupted from a no doubt stunning riposte by Lydia slamming the door shut behind her. ‘Right then,’ she said, a big fake smile on her face, ‘shall we?’ 

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ Stiles said to himself as he reluctantly followed her down the stairs. 

‘Just don’t fall into any vats of carbonite,’ Derek muttered. 

Which, what?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘What?’ Stiles yelped. ‘What do you mean you’re working here? I’m not exactly an expert, but I’m fairly certain that secret government ninja assassins don’t work in the Buy More on their down time.’

‘So, how’d it go?’ Scott asked, coming to a skidding stop next to Stiles and only just avoiding sending the display of toasters flying. Seriously, he takes one day off and when he comes back, there’s a display of toasters. Where had all the e-readers gone? 

‘How’d what go?’ Stiles asked, walking aimlessly down one of the aisles, Scott next to him. 

‘Uh, your date with the incredibly hot woman from yesterday?’ 

‘Was that really only yesterday?’ 

‘Yeah, dude.’ Scott clicked his fingers in front of Stiles’ face. ‘Was the sex so good that you’ve forgotten what day it is? You actually got to the sex part?’ 

Stiles laughed, kind of high, but Scott didn’t seem to notice. ‘Uh, no. No sex. Definitely no sex. I, umm, I don’t see Lydia and I working out.’

Scott’s face fell. ‘Oh. Why?’ 

‘Well, honestly?’ Stiles nearly jumped a mile in the air when Derek _appeared_ out of thin air and stood behind Scott and scowled meaningfully at Stiles. And, yeah, okay, maybe he hadn’t appeared from thin air but from behind a stack of shelves but it had sure felt like a move of magical ninja powers. It was almost as if he were trying to stop Stiles telling Scott anything resembling a government secret with the power of his mind alone. But Stiles ignored Derek because, really, he wasn’t going to get his best friend thrown down a government issue well. ‘Honestly, she kind of scares me. I don’t think I’d come out of that relationship with all my limbs attached.’

Stiles was still watching Derek, even as he spoke to Scott, because it seemed to Stiles that it was wise to try and know where the government trained assassin was at any given time, so he totally saw the way Derek’s mouth twitched, like it was trying to smile but didn’t quite know how. It was gone almost before it had been there, but Stiles knew what he’d seen. He wouldn’t have believed it unless he’d seen it with his own two eyes, but Derek had definitely tried to smile. Or stopped himself from smiling. Stiles was kind of unsure which. Either way, a Stilinski induced smile had been on the cards.

Maybe he’d only been amused by the thought of getting to kill Stiles if he’d said anything about secret government projects to Scott, or he was nearly as scared of Lydia as Stiles was, or - and this would be kind of awesome in a terrifying kind of way - he had found Stiles kind of amusing in his own right. 

He startled as Scott poked him in the chest and by the time he looked back up, Derek had disappeared. ‘Ow, dude. What was that for?’ 

‘You’re staring over my shoulder at absolutely nothing. Are you sure you’re okay about your date with Lydia flaming out?’ 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Stiles said dismissively. ‘Over your shoulder, huh?’ 

Scott nodded. ‘Yeah. Why, what -? Shit, Finstock’s coming this way. I better go and make like I’m working.’ 

Stiles nodded as Scott scampered away, distracted by the fact that he’d apparently been staring at Derek the entire time he’d been daydreaming. 

‘Bilinski!’ 

He shook his head to try and get rid of the slight ringing in his ear. ‘Coach.’ 

‘Quit daydreaming about your latest crush -’ Stiles felt his face flame. He could only hope that Derek wasn’t nearby and didn’t have some kind of mind-reading device and that if he did, he’d think Stiles been thinking about Lydia ‘- and get to work. These appliances and gadgets won’t sell themselves, you know.’ 

‘Yes, Coach.’ He resisted the urge to salute. Finstock didn’t seem to find that as funny as the rest of the rejects working in the store.

Obviously believing his managerial tasks for the day had been completed, Finstock disappeared back into his office, glaring at customers and staff alike as he walked across the shop floor. Stiles caught sight of the two lacrosse sticks hanging on his wall before the door slammed closed. 

‘Why does everyone call him Coach?’ Derek asked, suddenly standing next to him. 

Stiles closed his eyes and counted to ten, letting his breathing even out for the first time in ages. When he opened them Derek was watching him quizzically. As soon as he noticed Stiles staring back, he scowled. ‘I’m definitely putting a bell on you so you can’t keep sneaking up on me and giving me heart attacks.’ 

‘Perk of the job.’

‘Nice.’ Because of course Derek would see killing him as a perk of the job. Talk about being shown your place in life. Then Stiles’ brain caught up with what he was seeing. ‘’Dude,’ he said, not even trying to disguise the horror in his voice. ‘Is that a Buy More shirt?’

‘Yes.’ There was a murderous glint in Derek’s eyes that made Stiles want to back away very slowly and then run like the hounds of hell were at his heels. 

‘Were you wearing it a second ago?’ 

‘Yes.’ 

‘Oh.’ In his defence he’d been so distracted by the way the shirt stretched across Derek’s shoulders when he’d popped up behind Scott, that he’d only vaguely registered the fact that it was green, instead of Buy More green. ‘But _why_ are you wearing one of our shirts? Do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if they find you impersonating an employee?’

‘I’m not impersonating an employee.’

‘Huh?’ 

‘I’m working here, moron.’

‘What?’ Stiles yelped. ‘What do you mean you’re working here? I’m not exactly an expert, but I’m fairly certain that secret government ninja assassins don’t work in the Buy More on their down time.’

‘We don’t get down time.’

‘So not the point right now, dude. Why are you here?’

‘To keep your dumb ass alive.’

‘I - you. What?’ 

‘Our orders are to keep you safe. Meaning we have to be close to you.’

‘Does this mean that Lydia’s here too?’ He pushed onto his tiptoes and craned his neck to see around the store, half convinced that he’d find his fluffy team of rejects in a Lydia induced stupor, while she was flawlessly fabulous. ‘I can’t see her.’ 

‘That’s because she’s at the Weinerlicious.’

Stiles felt his eyes widen and bit his lip. ‘Oh my god. Have you seen what they wear over there? She’s going to hate it with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.’

Derek stared at him blankly and Stiles couldn’t hold back the bubble of laughter that erupted from his mouth. He grabbed onto Derek’s arm to steady himself as he laughed. ‘Seriously, dude,’ he gasped. ‘You obviously haven’t been over there yet if you’re not getting just how hilarious this is.’

Instead of answering, Derek glared at where Stiles was hanging on to his arm. 

Stiles snatched his hand away, as though burned and scrubbed it through his hair. ‘Uh, sorry about that. I’m not so good with personal boundaries. Scott’s pretty much my only friend and he’s used to my hugs and stuff.’ He folded his hands under his armpits. ‘Well, that wasn’t awkward. Not even a little bit.’ 

‘How are you not dead yet?’ 

‘Hey! No fair.’

‘You nearly fell on your ass just standing still.’

‘It’s a thing I do. Everyone just kind of ignores it unless I manage to break something. And that happens way less frequently than I’m guessing you imagine.’

‘Right.’

‘Well, I’m going to go away now. Uh, could we maybe not tell Lydia that I laughed at the thought of her working at the Weinerlicious? I’m fond of my balls where they are, and I’m not entirely sure they’ll stay there if she finds out.’ 

It was probably, most likely, his very overactive imagination, but Stiles would swear that Derek’s eyes flicked down to his crotch before he sighed and nodded his head. 

‘So, I’m going to go and find a nice, friendly gas oven to put my head into. You…’ He waved hopelessly at Derek. ‘You just try not to frighten any of the customers.’ 

He was only a couple of steps away when Derek’s fingers encircled his wrist in a vice-like grip. ‘Answer my question.’

‘What - oh. That. Yeah.’ He glanced over at Finstock’s office, just to check it was still occupied. ‘I wish I could tell you there’s some awesome, and possibly inspirational, story behind it, but he used to be our high school lacrosse coach. He was fired for sleeping under the bleachers during the off season. Although, presumably there must have been something more to it than that, because that’s kind of lame.’

Derek rolled his eyes before walking off, probably intending to ignore Stiles’ order and find more people to terrify. 

‘I told you it was boring,’ Stiles called after him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles followed where Scott was pointing and groaned as he saw Derek emerge from the apartment across the courtyard. ‘You have got to be kidding me,’ he muttered.

‘Hey, dude,’ Scott whispered, elbowing him in the ribs. ‘Isn’t that the new guy from work?’

Stiles’ head snapped up from the text he was sending his dad. There was only one new guy that Stiles knew of. ‘What? Where?’

‘Over there. Moving into the empty apartment across from us.’ 

Stiles followed where Scott was pointing and groaned as he saw Derek emerge from the apartment across the courtyard. ‘You have got to be kidding me,’ he muttered. 

‘What’s wrong?’ Scott asked, as he fumbled for the keys to their apartment. 

‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong,’ Stiles mumbled, busy glaring at Derek, who was quite obviously pretending to ignore him as he carried in a couple of boxes. 

‘Because he’s totally your type.’

Stiles’ eyes snapped away from Derek and the way his shoulders and arms were straining - making another part of Stiles’ brain wonder what the hell was in those boxes - and glared at his best friend. ‘No he’s not.’ 

Scott snorted as he shouldered the door open. ‘Yeah. Right.’ 

‘He’s really, really not,’ Stiles retorted, dropping his bag on the sofa and walking into the kitchen to grab a can of coke, only to discover they were out. ‘He’s creepy. And he reminds me of a serial killer.’ 

‘That was nearly believable.’ 

‘I hate you. How do you always notice these things?’ Scott was generally oblivious to, well, pretty much everything. But somehow he always knew when Stiles might possibly be interested in getting horizontal with someone. Stiles knew he had a problem with subtlety, but Scott was about a thousand times worse and if they got to the end of the week without Derek becoming... aware of Stiles’ involuntary attraction, it’d be a minor miracle. 

‘Because you hardly looked away from him all day? That was a pretty good clue.’ 

Stiles could hardly tell Scott that the reason (or most of the reason) he’d kept looking out for Derek was because he was a deadly ninja assassin, so he grunted, neither confirming or denying. 

‘Wanna play Halo 3 later?’ Scott asked, his voice muffled by the fridge door. Not that Stiles was entirely sure what was in there that had caught Scott’s attention. He was fairly certain they’d be ordering pizza again. 

‘Yeah. Just give me a yell when you’re ready and I’ll come kick your ass.’ He closed the door to his room and nearly shrieked out loud when a dark shadow detached itself from his wall and moved towards him. Regardless, he did back into his desk and winced when a couple of precariously balanced piles of paper lost their fight with gravity and cascaded onto the floor. ‘Jesus, fuck. Derek.’ He took a couple of deep breaths. ‘Weren’t you moving boxes a moment ago?’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

When nothing else was forthcoming, Stiles sighed. ‘Then what the hell are you doing creeping around my room like a giant stalker?’

‘Checking the cameras and bugs I installed.’

‘Cameras?’ Stiles yelped. ‘You’ve put cameras in my room? In my _apartment_?’

‘And the living room and kitchen.’

‘You. You can’t _do_ that,’ he spluttered.

‘I can. And I have.’ 

‘No, no, no. Take them out. Take them out now. It’s bad enough that you’ve apparently moved in across the way, but you aren’t watching me while I sleep.’

Derek scowled. ‘I have better things to do than watch you. But I have orders. I have to wire this place up in case any enemy agents work out who you are and try to kill you or your idiot friend out there.’

‘God, just kill me know,’ Stiles moaned, dropping his head to his chest. 

‘That can be arranged.’ 

Stiles ignored the threat against his life - he’d known Derek a grand total of two days and he’d already learnt that if he took every threat uttered seriously he’d be living in fear - more in fear - for the rest of time - and focused on the important stuff. ‘The bathroom. Tell me you haven’t bugged the bathroom. At least let me have some privacy.’ 

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘The bathroom is clean. Actually, your bathroom is disgusting, but in a wiretapping sense, it’s clean. Cameras in the hallway and outside the window, though.’

‘Okay. Okay. That’s...well, it’s not okay. Not even close. But better than it could have been.’ At least he could get naked without an audience. ‘And hey. Our bathroom is plenty clean. What do you expect from two guys in their twenties?’

‘I’m not saving you from infectious diseases,’ Derek said, apparently totally serious. ‘Only assassins.’

‘Well, I survived my bathroom this long without you. I think I can survive a little longer.’ 

‘Just remember that I can see and hear everything you’re doing. If I think you’re just trying to piss me off, I will come over and suffocate you with a pillow. Do we understand each other?’

‘You’re threatening my life. Again. And when I say again, I mean for the fifteenth time. Today. At least.’

‘Whatever,’ Derek muttered, heading for the window. 

‘You know, I should have a taser or something so I can protect myself from annoying people who creep into my room at night and scare the crap out of me.’

Derek paused, one leg out the window. ‘No.’

‘Spoilsport,’ Stiles muttered as he disappeared. 

‘Hey, Stiles, are you ready to come out here and let me beat your ass,’ Scott yelled. 

‘On my way. You better get ready for the pounding of your life.’ He took a step towards the door before he froze in horror. 

If Derek could see and hear everything, then. Then. How the fuck was he going to stop Scott from teasing him about his probably maybe crush on Derek? What if he dreamed about Derek and, god, moaned his name? Scott kept telling him that he talked in his sleep. That could. Fuck. Stiles was so dead it wasn’t even funny.

‘Oh, fuck my life,’ Stiles breathed. ‘I hope Jackson fell into a vat of acid and when he died.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm away for Easter weekend and I will be without Internet for that time (*bites nails*) so there won't be an update until Tuesday at the very earliest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Wait, we have a Batcave here, under the Buy More?’

‘Wait, we have a Batcave here, under the Buy More?’ Stiles stumbled down the stairs, trying to take in everything at once. ‘Do you know how seriously awesome this is? Man, I wish Scott could see all this. Not that I’m going to tell him,’ he hastened to add as Derek glared at him. 

‘I knew bringing him down here already was a bad idea,’ Lydia called up from where she was staring intently at a couple of computer screens. 

‘Hey,’ Stiles protested. ‘How long has there been an underground layer here, then? Have you been keeping secrets from me? Which I totally get is a stupid question to ask a couple of James Bond’s.’

‘Hurry up and get over it,’ Derek snapped. 

‘Get over all this? I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’m something of a computer geek and I’m in a room full of tech that I _know_ shouldn’t exist yet and you’re telling me to calm down. It’s all shiny and pretty and my fingers are itching to play with it all. Of course I’m not going to get over it.’ 

‘No,’ Lydia snapped without looking up. ‘No touching.’ 

Neither Lydia or Derek were particularly tactful, and, if anything seemed to take a perverse joy out of being as blunt as possible, but even so, that one stung. ‘I work with computers everyday, Lydia. It was me knowing about a stupid computer virus that stopped us from all being exploded into a bloody mess, remember that?’

‘This isn’t your average computer, Stilinski,’ Lydia told him with a flick of her hair. 

‘And that’s why I want to get my hands on it,’ Stiles explained with a roll of his eyes. ‘Average computers are easy to come by. What you have down here, not so much.’

‘Shut. Up,’ Derek growled, pushing past Stiles at the bottom of the of the stairs. ‘We’re working here.’

‘But seriously, dude. It’s a top secret government installation, surely it can’t have always been here.’ He scrunched up his nose. ‘Has it? I mean, has there always been a government facility randomly under this Buy More?’ 

‘You’re an idiot,’ Derek said flatly. 

‘Is that a yes?’ Stiles asked, unable to stop himself from watching Derek walk over to see what Lydia was working on.

Derek glanced back at Stiles and growled.

‘Is that a no?’ he asked, trailing after Derek, wanting to get closer to the computers, even if touching them would result in broken fingers.

‘Can’t I just rip out his tongue?’ Derek asked Lydia. 

‘Not at the moment,’ Lydia said, giving his arm a comforting pat. 

‘First off, rude,’ Stiles huffed, taking his life in his hands and poking Derek in the bicep. ‘Plus, if you rip out my tongue how can I tell you what I flash on? Nations could fall if you rip out my tongue.’

Lydia snorted in amusement while Derek glared at Stiles’ finger like he was contemplating ripping it off.

‘And, seriously, can’t I express surprise that apparently we have the Initiative under my place of employment? This isn’t the usual way of things. You do get that, right?’ 

‘Stiles we’re working on something here. Either be quiet or go and sit down until we can take you topside.’ 

‘Is it something to do with me?’ Stiles asked, trying to see between Derek and Lydia and glimpse what they were working on. ‘Shouldn’t I be involved if it’s about me?’

‘No.’ Derek was frowning at the screen, pointing out something Stiles couldn’t read to Lydia. 

‘But -’

He took a couple of quick steps back when Derek stood suddenly and turned to once again glare at him. 

‘You know, sooner or later, you’re face is going to stick like that. It’s probably something you want to think about.’ He spread his hands. ‘Just saying.’ 

Derek grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. ‘Go and find something to do. If you want to explore, then explore -’

‘Derek,’ Lydia said, her voice low, the warning clear. 

‘But if you touch anything, even one button, then I will -’

‘Disembowel me, cut up my body and bury me at all corners of the world,’ Stiles said, rolling his eyes. ‘I get it. Look, but don’t touch.’

‘And that’s nothing compared to what I will do to you,’ Lydia added. 

‘Thanks. That doesn’t make my balls shrivel up or anything.’ 

Lydia turned and flashed him a genuine smile. ‘I think Stiles has already worked out which one of us is the more dangerous.’ 

‘What? No, I… I think you’re both about as terrifying as each other. It’s just… I’m getting used to Derek threatening me now.’ 

Lydia’s smile morphed turned sharper, while Derek’s scowl just became deeper. 

‘Yeah, well, I’m uh, I’m going to run away now before you decide to team up and kill me dead.’ 

‘You do that,’ Derek said, absently. 

With a deep breath, Stiles turned and made his way over to the nearest door which stayed resolutely closed. ‘Uh, if I’m not allowed to touch anything then how -?’

‘Put your hand on the scanner,’ Lydia told him. ‘You have clearance.’ 

‘I do?’

‘Well, you have all our secrets in your head. Not giving you clearance seemed petty.’ 

‘Gotcha,’ Stiles said, pressing his hand to the scanner. As a green line went back and forth across the pad, Stiles grinned to himself. That was so freaking cool. 

‘Don’t touch anything,’ Derek yelled as the door closed behind him. 

Stiles waved a hand in acknowledgement, relieved to be away from the intensity of two super secret agents. 

So Stiles spent the next hour exploring. For all that it was all straight lines and sterile surfaces, the base reminded Stiles of a castle with the number sheer number of corridors, rooms and bolt-holes he stumbled across. He found the gym, which already felt like it was well used and Stiles found himself wondering if this was where Derek spent any time he had when he wasn’t shadowing Stiles. Which then led to him daydreaming about Derek all sweaty and out of breath. Or it did until he realised that his luck dictated that just as he got a boner, Derek would find him and notice. The medical bay looked horrifyingly well stocked and Stiles backed out of there pretty sharpish, not wanting to think about why they would need that much equipment. There was a corridor of holding cells and what Stiles could only assume were interrogation rooms, thanks to the presence of bolted down tables and chairs. A couple of the rooms had beds in them. It took nearly forty minutes for him to find a toilet but after that he kept stumbling upon bathroom after bathroom, not that Stiles was knocking them for catering for the basic hygiene needs of however many people Castle could hold at one time.

Even without being able to touch anything - and, god, had there been somethings he’d liked to have been able to fully explore, but Derek’s warning about Lydia had echoed in his mind every time he’s fingers had as much as twitched in the direction of something - there was a load of stuff for Stiles to find. Seriously, there was no way this could have been thrown together in less than a week, which suggested that for reasons unknown there had always been a secret government base here. Which in of itself brought up a huge number of questions. Questions to which Stiles knew he wouldn’t be getting any answers until he could get his hands on the computers. 

Eventually he found himself walking through a door that brought him back into the main operations room and noticed a kitchen to the left. Lydia and Derek were still deep in whatever the hell it was, so Stiles went to investigate how well stocked the kitchen was. It took him less than a minute to find both a can of coke and a bag of Cheeto's, along with an array of his favourite foods. So, despite what Lydia had said, they’d always planned to bring him down here. That was actually reassuring. 

Finally he could find nothing else to distract himself with, and made his way back over to Lydia and Derek to see if they were done yet. They had their backs to him and so neither saw him coming, and, shockingly he didn’t walk into fall over anything. 

‘You don’t think it will work?’ Lydia was asking Derek. 

Derek shrugged. ‘Maybe. But he doesn’t get near the Intersect until we’re sure.’ 

‘Sure about what?’ Stiles asked, licking the Cheeto’s powder off his fingers. ‘And who’s not getting near me?’ 

Both Lydia and Derek jumped as though Stiles had stumbled across them selling secrets to the Chinese. 

‘Aren’t you supposed to be exploring?’ Derek snapped, his eyes flicking from Stiles’ fingers to his mouth. As much as Stiles would like to think that Derek was entertaining thoughts of what Stiles’ mouth could do, the frown suggested that he was more appalled by Stiles’ eating habits. 

‘Unless you’re willing to give me a computer, then I think I found pretty much all the secrets of this place.’ He hopped up onto the stool next to Lydia that Derek had apparently decided to forgo. 

Derek snorted. 

‘No computer,’ Lydia said. ‘Also, there is no way you even scratched the surface of this place.’ 

Stiles shrugged. ‘Either way, my feet hurt.’

‘Of course they do,’ Derek muttered. 

‘So what aren’t you sure will work and what’s it got to do with the Intersect?’ 

Lydia and Derek swapped a look and Stiles finally felt irritated. 

‘Look, I get that you’re both super spies and that I have to listen to you if I don’t want to be snatched up by the bad guys or stashed away by the government, but there’s obviously something up and you not telling me doesn’t exactly encourage me to trust you. I’m not asking you to tell me everything, I’m not an idiot, but it would be nice if you gave me some info every now and again.’ 

‘Stiles,’ Derek sighed. 

‘The cliff notes version will do fine.’ 

‘There’s a possibility that we might be able to remove the Intersect from you.’ 

‘Seriously? How?’ He tapped his head. ‘I thought this thing was here to stay.’ Stiles had been resigned to his fate. As much as he might have wanted to, there had been no point rallying against what was happening. Derek and Lydia would have given him the smackdown and it would just have made his life even more difficult. But now there was a possibility his life wasn’t destined to be some horrible B movie and he felt a kernel of hope unfurl. 

‘There’s a doctor,’ Derek told him. ‘He worked on the Intersect program and he might have a way to remove it.’

In Stiles’ mind this was most excellent news so he couldn’t understand Derek’s reluctance. Which probably meant there was a major catch. ‘With or without killing me?’ 

Derek raised an eyebrow. 

‘It just seems to be a good thing to find out up front.’ 

‘Without,’ Derek said. ‘We won’t do it otherwise.’ 

‘Seriously? I’d have thought that wouldn’t really matter.’ A complicated look twisted Derek’s face and Stiles nearly stumbled over his words. ‘I don’t really mean that in a bad way. Although, yay for keeping me living and breathing. I just meant, it’s the government, yeah? I’d have thought they’d be more interested in keeping their secrets secret than keeping me alive.’

‘He’s not wrong,’ Lydia said. Derek glared at her and without looking up Lydia shrugged. ‘I’m just saying.’ 

‘What exactly _are_ you saying?’

Lydia paused in whatever she was doing and turned to face him fully. ‘If you’d threatened to do something stupid, or had acted suspicious in any way, then you would probably be in a government facility and we’d be a lot less concerned with your continued existence.’

‘So you’re saying I’m walking, talking and breathing because I’ve been kinda laid back about this entire clusterfuck?’ 

‘More or less,’ Lydia said brightly. 

‘I don’t know if I should be relieved or really weirded out by that,’ Stiles admitted. 

‘Relieved,’ Derek told him. 

‘Yeah. I think you might be right about that.’ He gave himself a shake. ‘So, come on then, why are you suspicious of this doctor?’

‘Derek’s suspicious of everything and everyone,’ Lydia said. She sent an icy glare in his direction. ‘It’s one of his more charming qualities.’ 

‘Everyone?’ Stiles asked. ‘That must be exhausting.’ 

Derek jerked as though someone had administered an electric shook but didn’t answer. If anything, he seemed eager to busy himself so he didn’t have to say a word. 

Lydia’s eyes sharpened as she cocked her head. 

Stiles fidgeted as she regarded him shrewdly. ‘What? Quit looking at me like that.’ 

She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Oh, because that’s reassuring.’ A pressure descended to rest on the nape of his neck and Stiles nearly fell of the stool. ‘Dude, not cool.’ He glared at Derek, who threw him a smirk. 

Derek yanked him in the direction of the stairs. ‘Our shift starts in ten minutes. We see the doctor tonight, after we close.’ 

‘Just so you know, I’ve really got a bad feeling about this.’


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a lull in the gunfire and Derek took the opportunity to grab a fist full of Stiles’ shirt and pull him in close, making Stiles squeak involuntarily. ‘If you don’t follow my orders in the field, then yes, I’ll die. And so will you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed so if you see any mistakes, please point them out to me.

‘I told you I had a bad feeling about this.’ 

‘And I thought I told you to stay in the car,’ Derek yelled. There was a hand heavy on the back of Stiles’ neck, pushing him close to the ground. 

‘The car wasn’t safe anymore,’ Stiles yelled back, flinching as bullets flew over the shipping crates they were crouched behind, impacting the corrugated metal propped up behind them.

‘And this is?’

Stiles glanced back at the burning husk of the car, the flames still leaping into the night. ‘Uh, it’s definitely better than the car.’

‘What the hell did you do to draw attention to yourself?’ 

‘Nothing!’

‘Right.’ 

‘Look, so far today I’ve been told there was a possibility that I might become a real boy again, nearly been blown up, pulled a tranq dart from your neck - and I still can’t understand how you’re still upright after that - and nearly had to fly a helicopter. Not to mention finding out the doctor who was going to supposedly help me, was more interested in, well, cutting into my brain. So do you think you could cut me a little bit of slack here? I know this is a day in the life for you, but I’m not used to this shit.’ 

‘You didn’t get anywhere near flying a helicopter, idiot.’ 

‘But I could have if you hadn’t appeared with the timely rescue,’ Stiles pointed out. ‘Lydia would have been deader than dead and I’d have been delivered to the Blue Hand men on a silver platter.’

Derek glanced at him as he ejected a clip and slammed in a new one. ‘The who?’ 

‘Never mind,’ Stiles muttered. ‘Pop culture reference.’

Derek grunted. ‘When I say run, you run.’

Stiles squinted up at Derek, through the dark. ‘You don’t _look_ like The Doctor.’

‘Shut up and listen to me.’

‘But what about you? You’ll be with me, right?’

‘I’m going to cover you.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question.’ 

‘Stiles -’

Panic was clawing up his throat and spilled into his mouth. ‘I’m not going without you. You’re not dying for me.’

There was a lull in the gunfire and Derek took the opportunity to grab a fist full of Stiles’ shirt and pull him in close, making Stiles squeak involuntarily. ‘If you don’t follow my orders in the field, then yes, I’ll die. And so will you.’ 

Stiles swallowed, finding Derek legitimately scary for the first time since their rooftop meeting. ‘In the field follow your orders.’ 

Derek nodded. 

‘Got it.’ He licked his lips. ‘Can I ask a question?’ 

Derek grunted, his eyes scanning the area. 

‘Where’s Lydia?’ 

‘Around.’

‘So not dead?’

‘Not dead. Although we will be in a minute.’ Derek hauled him to his feet. ‘Get ready to run.’ 

Stiles took a shaky breathe. He wasn’t cut out for this. Not like Derek. Or Lydia. ‘Where to?’ 

Derek jerked his head in the direction of more shipping crates. 

‘Right.’ He gulped. 

‘Now.’ 

Stiles took off, refusing to look left or right, totally focused on getting to the crates. There were little puff of dirts and Stiles’ brain helpfully pointed out that those were bullets that were trying to kill him. Skidding around the corner, Stiles lost his footing and facepalmed into the dirt. He scrambled to press his back against the wooden crate and prayed that the next person he saw was Derek. There was a lot more gunfire and Stiles began to wonder if Derek was even still alive when he seemed to materialise, crouching in front of Stiles. 

‘What? Where?’ Stiles spluttered. 

Derek reached down and hauled Stiles unceremoniously to his feet. 

‘But where did you come from?’ 

‘I climbed up the side of the crate,’ Derek said. ‘Are you hurt?’ 

‘Huh?’ 

Derek rolled his eyes and started running the hand not holding his gun over Stiles’ sides and stomach. 

Pushing Derek’s hand away Stiles could feel himself blushing. ‘Dude. What the hell?’ His voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. 

‘No blood,’ Derek grunted. ‘You’re fine.’ 

‘I’m not fine to an epic degree. So not even close to fine. Someone wanted to cut into my brain. I’m going to be having nightmares for years about that.’

‘In a couple of months, after a few more missions, you’ll wish for this nightmare.’ 

Stiles stared at Derek, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times. ‘I have a horrible feeling you meant that to be comforting.’

Not answering, Derek grabbed one of Stiles’ hands and pressed it against his side. ‘Hold on to my t-shirt and don’t let go.’ 

‘I - what?’ But he found himself following Derek’s orders without even thinking about it. 

‘We are going that way.’ Stiles squinted into the dark, following the direction Derek was pointing. ‘We’ll be moving quickly so keep up.’ 

‘And you’ll be shooting people.’ 

‘If they get in my way.’ 

‘Right.’ 

For the next few minutes - or maybe the next few hours, for all Stiles knew - Stiles stayed focused on keeping hold of Derek’s t-shirt. Hysterical babble kept trying to claw its way out, but Stiles ruthlessly swallowed it back down. He was concentrating so hard that when Derek suddenly halted he crashed into his back. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw movement and for a second he thought someone was about to sneak up on him and Derek. But turning more fully towards the movement he saw that there were in fact about a half a dozen well armed people standing by a dark van. 

‘Hey, look over there,’ he hissed at Derek, pulling at his t-shirt. 

‘Kind of busy here, moron.’ 

‘I know, but I think this might be important.’ The men were scanning the area and Stiles knew it was only a matter of time until they spotted him and Derek. 

‘What?’ 

‘There are some very well armed individuals who look like they could invade a small country to our left.’ 

Derek swung around and by the time Stiles had blinked two of them were on the ground, not moving. 

‘Holy shit,’ he breathed. 

‘Stay behind me,’ Derek snapped, a hand reaching back and pressing Stiles further between the wall and Derek’s body. 

‘Believe me, I’ve no plans to get in the way of a bullet.’ 

Derek was busy shooting people so Stiles understood the lack of a response. Another bad guy hit the ground, screaming and Stiles flinched. He nearly let go of Derek so he could press his hands to his ears but Derek must have realised what he was about to do, because a hand wrapped around his and squeezed before letting go again. Stiles took the hint and tightened his grip on Derek’s t-shirt.

The van door was thrown open and a woman, decked out in leather and holding a fucking big gun, emerged. Stiles couldn’t see her face, but he got the distinct impression that she was dangerous.

Even over the gunfire, Stiles heard Derek suck in a sharp breath. By the time Stiles caught a glimpse of his face, it was completely blank but Stiles got the feeling that Derek knew exactly who she was. 

‘We need to move. Now.’ 

‘You’ll get no argument from me,’ Stiles muttered. 

Derek ducked down behind a rusting fuel tank, Stiles making sure he was remained right at Derek’s back, not wanting to distract him when people were trying to kill them.

An indistinguishable amount of time and number of dead bodies later, Stiles was vaguely surprised to realise that he and Derek were finally at the edge of the airfield and, for the time being at last, there were no bad guys in their general vicinity. 

‘What now?’ he gasped. 

Derek glanced around but before he could formulate a reply, a car came tearing down the road and came to a screeching halt next to them. For half a second Stiles was convinced that a bad guy had actually taken the initiative and was going to gun them down but then he noticed Lydia behind the wheel. The window was rolled down and she leaned over to glare at them. ‘Get in!’

‘Oh, thank god,’ he breathed. 

Which was obviously the moment bullets started flying around them again, pinging off the car. 

With a grunt Derek turned and started returning fire while he also pulled open the car door with the other hand and unceremoniously shoved Stiles onto the backseat. Stiles scrambled over to the other side of the car as Derek crowded in after him. 

Lydia was already pulling away as Derek slammed the door shut. 

‘It’s the Argents,’ Derek panted. 

‘Are you sure?’ Lydia’s voice was tense. 

‘I saw Kate Argent.’ 

The vertigo Stiles had quickly associated with flashing kicked in and Stiles fell into a series of images that showed him a crazy blond woman wreaking havoc across the world. They started back when she was teenager and tortured her first victim - an agent from MI6 - to death and showed her involved in incidences from Berlin to Beijing. Everywhere she went there was a string of dead bodies, broken agents and murdered civilians. The CIA had nearly caught her in Sicily, the NSA had got close twice but she’d slipped the net both times. MI6 had once thought they’d caught her, but the poor woman in their custody had been a patsy. The amount of blood spilt made Stiles feel ill and as the images faded, he wondered how he was going to scrub them from his brain. 

‘Well there’s no mistaking her,’ Lydia said, oblivious to the fact that Stiles had flashed, even as he slumped against the back seat, panting. All he could say was he hoped the headaches weren’t a permanent thing. 

‘Oh, that’s so not good,’ Stiles gasped. ‘Not good at all.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Lydia agreed, although Stiles could see her frowning in the rear-view mirror. 

‘I mean, I _know_ it’s not a good thing.’ 

‘You flashed?’ Derek asked. 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘What did you see?’ 

‘She’s a crazy psycho who seems to have a real penchant for excessive torture,’ Stiles said, not even trying to hide the horror he felt. ‘About six years ago - through still unknown means - she got her hands on a list of American agents embedded in several enemy organisations and sold them to said various enemy organisations. I think it’s fairly obvious what then happened to the American agents.’ 

Derek shifted next to Stiles and as the car drove under a street light, Stiles could see bitter anger on his face. Not exactly a surprise that someone as deeply entrenched in the world of espionage would hate someone like Kate Argent for selling out so many of his fellow spies. 

‘She’s backed by her family’s company, Argent Incorporated. They play with the books, giving her near unlimited resources,’ Lydia said. ‘The CIA believes her father is involved as well. We still aren’t sure about her brother, Chris.’ 

‘So bad in every way, shape and form,’ Stiles said faintly. ‘That’s just brilliant.’ 

Derek grunted. But there was something off about it. If asked, Stiles couldn’t say what was different exactly, but it forced him to look properly at Derek as they sped through the street lights. Derek’s face was pale and drawn which seemed at odds with how in control he’d been at the airfield. 

It wasn’t until they turned a corner and the light moved across Derek that he saw that Derek’s jeans seemed kind of shiny and wet. 

‘Oh my god, you’ve been shot! How the fuck are you just sitting there? There is blood leaking from your leg.’

Looking supremely unconcerned, Derek glanced down at his leg. ‘It’s just a flesh wound.’ 

‘Are you quoting Monty Python on purpose?’ Stiles demanded, even so slightly hysterical. ‘Because this so isn’t the time.’ 

‘Hale,’ Lydia snapped from the front. ‘Is Stiles right?’

‘Yeah, I’m quoting -’

‘No, not that. Have you been shot?’

‘Oh. That.’ He poked at his leg. ‘Bullet just clipped me.’

‘Don’t poke at it,’ Stiles snapped, slapping his hand away. Shrugging out of his shirt, Stiles balled it up and pressed it to Derek’s leg. Derek was staring at him, his eyebrows knitted together. ‘I’m freaking out here. You just got shot saving my life. So let me do this, yeah?’

‘A couple of stitches and I’ll be fine,’ Derek told him. But he didn’t try and push Stiles away so Stiles was taking that as a unexpected win.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But then, just because the universe hadn’t quite finished laughing at Stiles, everything became just that little bit more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realised that it had been so long since my last update. Life just kind of interrupted and time ran away from me. Sorry. 
> 
> I hope this makes up for it a bit. 
> 
> The next chapter should be up a lot quicker.

And that was pretty much Stiles’ life for the next month or so. 

Flash. Mission. Rinse. Repeat.

As a general rule Stiles preferred to remain firmly on the sidelines, cowering as Lydia and Derek rushed in to save the day by being terrifying and awesome. Occasionally he would manage to accidentally stumble into the middle of a mission and the fate of the known universe rested on his shoulders. Or something similar. Either way, he really wasn’t cut out of this shit. He had a tendency to babble when nervous. Or when he was scared out of his wits and terrified for his continued existence. 

And babbling when hiding from bad guys? Not the best combination. Who knew? 

He’d lost track of the number of times Derek had slapped a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to shut him up or pulled him out the way of bullets by wrapping his hand around the back of Stiles’ neck and dragging him out of the way. In the moment Stiles was always too pant-wettingly scared to pay attention to the warmth of Derek’s hand or how he would press against Stiles, keeping his body between him and the bad guys. But after the moment - way after the moment - he would think back over every little detail. Generally in the privacy of his bathroom because who knew if or when Derek would be watching. 

It was possible that Stiles’ crush was _evolving_ as he caught little flashes of the person Derek was behind the snarling, glowering, creeping super-ninja government assassin. But hopefully that was just his imagination. 

Argent Incorporated were involved _way more_ than Stiles was comfortable with. Those were the worst missions. Lydia’s tongue became razor sharp and Derek became even more sour than usual. Stiles thankfully never came face to face with Kate Argent but just seeing the aftermath of her passing was enough to give him extensive and detailed nightmares. Derek hadn’t been kidding when he’d said Stiles’ first mission would seen like a sunny walk in the park compared to everything that came after.

Then there was the important stuff. Like trying to keep his dad from visiting without it looking like he was trying to keep his dad from visiting. Not an easy thing when your dad was a sheriff who had a highly developed bullshit meter. Mostly due to all the antics Stiles and Scott had got up to in their teen years. Stiles knew, he just knew that his dad would work out something was going on in thirty seconds. He’d probably deduce _exactly_ what it was after about three minutes. 

He was distracted from missing his dad too much but the constant fight to stop Scott from blurting out his disastrous crush either at work or at home and it was proving... challenging. He didn’t _think_ Derek (or Lydia) had worked it out, but Scott was giving him increasingly weird looks. 

So, life was weird. But, in a strange way, it was manageable. Stiles just had to alter the perimeters of what he considered normal and what he didn’t. 

But then, just because the universe hadn’t quite finished laughing at Stiles, everything became just that little bit more complicated. 

Scott fell in love. 

‘Isn’t she just the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?’ 

Stiles looked up from the computer where, surprise surprise, he was actually working for once. It didn’t happen often and he was determined to make the most of it. It would keep Finstock off his back for at least a couple of days. ‘Who?’ 

‘Allison,’ Scott sighed. 

‘Who’s Allison?’ Stiles asked blankly, the name ringing a vague, dusty bell. 

Scott didn’t answer. In fact, he straightened from where he was leaning on the counter next to Stiles and his dopey smile got, if it was at all possible, dopier. 

A shadow fell over Stiles and he looked up to see a pretty woman, with long, dark wavy hair and a friendly smile. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Hi, Scott.’

‘Hi, Allison.’ 

Which Stiles supposed answered that question. He looked from Scott to Allison as neither of them spoke, just stared besottedly at each other. 

‘Oh my God,’ he muttered. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ 

Was he so involved in his spy life that he’d failed to notice his best friend falling in love? He vaguely remembered evenings where Scott ran out the door, yelling something at Stiles, but Stiles had usually been neck deep in people - mostly Argent employed - trying to kill him that he’d really not paid that much attention. He was a terrible best friend. 

He winced as Scott kicked him under the counter but it was enough to shift Allison’s attention to him. 

‘Hi. You must be Stiles. Scott’s told me all about you.’

‘I hope it was all a sparkling indictment of what an excellent best friend I am.’

‘It was,’ Allison said, with a laugh. Stiles could see why Scott was so into her. She was beautiful and if Stiles was more into the female of the species than he was... And if his current tastes didn't run in a somewhat grumpier direction...

‘That’s me. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you might be the radiant Allison?’ 

‘How did you guess?’

‘It was my keen observation skills. They’re legendary.’ 

Scott snorted. ‘Legendarily awful.’

‘Rude.’ 

‘Truth.’

‘Still rude.’

‘Whatever.’ 

‘Do you want me to break out the baby pictures?’ 

A horrified look passed across Scott’s face. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘I have a couple in my wallet and I’ll even call your mom for reinforcements.’

‘I think we’re going to go for lunch now,’ Scott said, hurrying around the help desk with a panicked look on his face. Which was fair because while Stiles had a shoe box full of embarrassing photos of Scott, his mom had about a billion albums full of them. 

‘Traitor,’ he hissed as he guided Allison back towards the door. 

Allison twisted around so she could see Stiles and he nodded when she mouthed ‘baby photos’ at him. She grinned and gave him a thumbs up. 

‘I like her already,’ he muttered to himself. 

‘What the hell was she doing here?’ Derek growled, right in his ear. 

Stiles managed to only jump a little bit even as his heart sped up and turned his head so he could glare at Derek. ‘Dude, what are you even talking about? And seriously, I’m getting you a bell.’ 

‘Why was an Argent here?’ 

‘An Argent?’ Stiles twisted around a couple of times, which was made harder by Derek not budging an inch. ‘Where? I don’t want them getting their hands on my brain. I like my brain exactly where it is.’

‘Just walked out the door with your idiot friend.’

Stiles blinked at him, dread curdling his stomach. ‘You mean, you mean _Allison_?’

Derek nodded. 

‘Allison is an Argent?’ 

‘Yes.’

‘Well, shit.’ He glanced over to the door, kind of expecting Scott and Allison to reappear. Instead he saw Lydia waltzing in, pushing her sunglasses onto her head. ‘You called her?’ 

Derek nodded, a sour expression on his face.

‘Oh, boy.’ Because if Derek called Lydia, then shit was serious. 

‘An Argent was here,’ he said as soon as Lydia was close enough.

‘Maybe she’s a good Argent?’Stiles suggested hopefully.

Derek growled low in his throat. By now Stiles was used to it and usually it didn’t faze him but something in Derek’s eyes made him flinch this time. 

‘Apparently not,’ he muttered.

‘Stiles, it can hardly be a coincidence that an Argent turns up here a couple of months after you got the Intersect,’ Lydia said.

‘So what you’re saying is that my best friend’s possible girlfriend is a supervillian?’ 

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’ Lydia leaned over the counter to give him a peck on the cheek. Stiles was just glad that the CIA had realised that Lydia couldn’t easily play his girlfriend and had turned her into a cousin instead. One his dad knew nothing about. Stiles could only hope that Scott and his dad never fell into a conversation about distant family members.

‘It is a bad thing,’ Stiles protested. ‘This is Scott we’re talking about.’

‘Exactly.’

‘What do you mean, exactly?’ He turned to Derek. ‘What does she mean, exactly? That doesn’t sound good.’

‘Calm down, Skilinski. It doesn’t mean anything. All you have to do is befriend her. Find out what it is her family wants. Why they are here,’ Lydia said. 

‘That’s all? Are you serious? That’s all? Because if she is an Argent then she’s related to Kate Argent, yes? And I don’t know if you remember this little detail, but Kate Argent wants my head on a stick. Okay, so she doesn’t know who I am, but the point still stands. She wants me dead.’ 

The only thing stopping Stiles from having a full on meltdown - although he suspected Lydia and Derek would call this a full on meltdown. They really needed to talk to Scott - was Derek standing impossibly close behind him. Stiles could feel him _right there_ even though they weren’t touching and instead of being terrifying, it was almost comforting. And if he was finding Derek’s lack of understanding about personal space comforting, then he was seriously in the shit, because not many things could be scarier than Derek Hale. 

‘She’s Allison’s aunt.’ 

‘Allison’s aunt?’ Stiles hissed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. ‘What the hell do you mean she’s Allison’s aunt?’

Lydia was looking at him like everything was normal and his reaction was completely over the top. Like this was normal. Which it most certainly wasn’t. 

‘I mean, Kate is Chris Argent’s sister and Chris Argent is Allison’s father. So she’s her aunt.’ 

‘I’m... I’m totally going to die, aren’t I? Going to be deader than a dead thing that’s dead. I’m 23 years old. I’ve got my entire life ahead of me. I -’ His voice was muffled by Derek slapping a hand over his mouth. 

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Lydia informed him with a flick of her hair. ‘I have to go. For some reason the restaurant don’t like it when I run out midway through a shift. We’ll talk more tonight.’ She glanced behind Stiles to Derek. ‘Just stop him from going nuclear.’ 

‘He’ll be fine.’ 

Stiles pushed Derek’s hand away and scowled between the two of them. ‘Have I mentioned how much I hate both of you lately? Because if not, I hate you.’

Lydia ignored him and snorted. ‘Right,' she said to Derek. 'Because he looks so fine now.’

For the briefest of seconds, just as he watched Lydia turn and sashay away, Stiles let his body relax so he was pressed back against Derek’s chest. Then, so Derek wouldn’t work out what Stiles was doing, he pushed at Derek’s shoulder with his own, as though trying to get past. 

Derek stood firm until Stiles glared up at him. He then stepped back just enough for Stiles to squeeze past.

‘You have some serious personal space issues,’ Stiles informed him stiffly. 

‘All you have to do is talk to Argent,’ Derek said. ‘Nothing dangerous. You can never stop talking anyway and you’ve just being a nosey friend. Stop being a baby.’

‘I’m not worried about it being dangerous,’ Stiles snapped. ‘I’m worried about how Scott’s going to react if she falls out of his life. I think he really likes her. Which I suppose doesn’t really interest either you or Lydia.’ 

Derek shrugged.

‘I hate my life,’ Stiles muttered with feeling as he did his best not to stomp as he walked away from Derek.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles jumped at the loud tapping on his window and then proceeded to nearly have a heart attack when he saw Derek glaring in at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kind of under the impression that I'd posted this chapter already. Evidently that wasn't the case. Sorry for the massive gap between updates.

Stiles jumped at the loud tapping on his window and then proceeded to nearly have a heart attack when he saw Derek glaring in at him. 

He flailed slightly as he opened the window. ‘Dude, have you never heard of a front door? You look like a creeper.’ Derek just kept on glaring at him and Stiles stepped reluctantly away from the window. ‘Are you coming in or are you going to glare at me from out there?’

He looked away as Derek stepped through, all coiled, dangerous strength and lots of muscles. Really, some amazing muscles. Stiles kept getting distracted by the line of Derek’s neck and breadth of his shoulders. Not to mention the way his t-shirts clung in all the right places. Thankfully Lydia and Derek still thought it was Stiles being Stiles when he spaced out but he had the horrible suspicion that Lydia was catching on. 

‘So, what are you doing here?’ Stiles asked when it became obvious that Derek wasn’t using his words that evening.

‘You’ve been whining about the same crap continuously for the last ninety seven minutes. Shut the hell up.’ 

‘Well, if you and Lydia would let me talk to Scott about all of this - but especially the bit about how you think his girlfriend is a supervillain or is at the very least part of a family of supervillains - I wouldn’t have to keep talking to myself, would I?’ 

‘That wasn’t talking to yourself,’ Derek gritted out from between clenched teeth. ‘That was trying to piss me off. And you succeeded.’

‘What can I say? I was driven to it.’

Derek growled. 

‘Look,’ said Stiles, suddenly feeling the need to be serious. ‘I get that I can’t tell Scott. I really do. I don’t want him in any more danger than he already is because of me. If I could find a way to make him move out without, like, breaking his heart, I totally would.’ He started pacing in front of Derek. ‘But you have to understand, I’ve known Scott since I was three. Three. That’s nearly twenty years. I have told him literally everything in that time because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I kind of have a problem with not talking. And now there is this big thing in my life, and I can’t talk to the one person I trust most in life, apart from my dad, about it because it might get him killed. The magnitude of suck just can’t be overstated. But I have to talk about it. I _have_ to. If I don’t, I’ll explode at the most inopportune time because I won’t be able to keep it all in. And we can’t all be blank-faced super soldiers like you, no offense. I need to vent. I need to rant. I need -’

‘Fine!’

Stiles stuttered to a stop. ‘What? Fine. You mean I can tell Scott?’

‘Don’t be an idiot.’

‘But you just said fine. I heard you.’ And Stiles wasn’t whining. He wasn’t. Except for how he totally was. 

‘If you need to talk to someone, you know where Lydia’s hotel is.’

Stiles felt his hopes fall. ‘I tried that.’ He collapsed on his bed and stared up at his star-covered ceiling. 

‘And?’

Stiles turned his head to look mournfully at Derek. ‘She threatened me with her stiletto. Something about how feelings gave her hives.’ 

‘Of course she did,’ Derek sighed. 

‘Which, really, not all that surprising. Lydia’s terrifying and honestly, I’d probably be too scared to tell her anything. She’d happily use anything I told her to manipulate me into doing something I don’t want to at a later date.’

Derek shrugged, which Stiles was taking as agreement. 

‘So I’m not sorry that I keep you up at night while I angst about how I can’t talk to my best friend about how terrifying my life has become or the fact that you and Lydia are convinced that his girlfriend is trying to help her scary-ass aunt kill me dead. or that I’m nearly too scared to talk to my dad just in case I say something and he gets suspicious and then I get him killed.’

Derek shook his head. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to say this,’ he muttered. ‘Come and freak out at mine. I have to listen to it all anyway.’ He gestured in the general direction of where Stiles assumed he’d hidden the cameras. 

Stiles pushed himself up on his elbows, sure he’d just misheard what Derek had just said. ‘I - what? Did...wait. You’ll talk to me? For real?’

‘No.’

Stiles felt his face fall and Derek rolled his eyes. 

‘You can talk but don’t expect me to.’

Stiles nodded thoughtfully. ‘I can work with that. It’ll just be awesome to have an actual person in the room. Believe it or not, ranting loses its shine when you’re all by yourself.’

‘I’ve made a huge mistake,’ Derek muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. 

Stiles stifled his laugh. ‘Dude, the more you say stuff like that, the more human I think you are. It’s bad for your rep.’ 

‘I’m going back to my apartment now and you aren’t going to talk for the rest of the evening.’

‘But -’

‘Stiles,’ Derek snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Please. Just. Not tonight, okay?’ 

Stiles stopped and really looked at Derek, seeing for the first time the shadows under his eyes and the way his shoulders were hunched over. He instinctively reached out towards Derek before realising what he was doing and snatching his hand back, hoping Derek hadn’t noticed. This wasn’t Derek’s usual reaction to Stiles irritating him. He seemed more than merely tired and Stiles didn’t think he was cause. He hoped he wasn’t the cause. So Stiles consciously pulled back everything that had been about to spill out of his mouth. ‘Okay. I can do that.’

Derek opened his eyes and stared at Stiles in confusion. He didn’t say anything but Stiles could tell that he was relieved by the way his entire body seemed to unhunch and slump forward slightly. 

Stiles bit his lip and looked around his room, and swallowed his sigh of relief as his eyes fell on the stack of comics on his bed. Thank god Scott had been to the comic store while he’d been hanging from a helicopter earlier that afternoon. Kicking off his shoes, Stiles shuffled down his bed so he could grab the one off the top of the pile. 

‘What are you doing?’ 

‘I have comics to catch up on,’ he explained, waving a couple at Derek. ‘About a billion of them. They've been piling up since the night before Jackson decided to change my life. This is my evening, right here.’

‘Just wait until tomorrow before getting into anymore trouble.’

Stiles glanced up to watch Derek disappear out the window, simultaneously envious and appreciative of his natural grace and the way his t-shirt didn’t really hide the way his muscles bunched. He really hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

‘I’ll not move from here,’ he promised with a smile. 

Derek snorted but Stiles would swear that the corner of his mouth was turned up ever so slightly as he pulled the window shut.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Are you sure Allison’s evil?’ Stiles asked, needing to ask just one more time, sitting on one of the table in Castle, idly kicking his feet. ‘You guys haven’t even met her yet, preferring to judge from afar.’

‘Are you sure Allison’s evil?’ Stiles asked, needing to ask just one more time, sitting on one of the table in Castle, idly kicking his feet. ‘You guys haven’t even met her yet, preferring to judge from afar.’

Lydia turned from the computer she was working on and scowled at him. ‘This? Again?’ 

‘It’s been nearly three weeks and she’s not said or done anything that’s had either of your spidey-senses tingling and you guys have been trying really hard to find _something_. She’s sweeter than candy and I swear she saves kittens during her spare time. More than that, she seems to find Scott’s bumbling around charming.’

‘I’d take that as more proof, not less,’ Lydia said, absently. 

‘I don’t want her to be evil.’ Scott was constantly happy and Stiles didn’t think he’d stopped smiling once in the last few weeks. If it wasn’t so adorable, it’d be sickening. ‘And I get that Allison being a genuinely lovely person makes no sense whatsoever when you consider who and what her family are but surely you can’t fake that kind of nice if you’re really a Big Bad?’

‘Big Bad’s, as you insist on calling them, are supposed to be able to convince people that they are sincere, lovely and charming people. If you could tell they’re evil, they wouldn’t be very good, would they?’ 

‘Well, no, but she doesn’t hate my lack of a brain to mouth filter and let’s be honest, everyone hates that apart from Scott and my dad. When he’s not protecting my brain, I'm positive Derek is dreaming up new and increasingly painful ways to kill me and you probably have a file on all the ways you would kill me. I bet it's alphabetised.’

‘It would be if such a file existed.’

‘So scary.’ 

‘So, befriend her.’

‘Done that.’

‘Then ask her about her family.’ 

‘I have! She hasn’t said anything about them being evil.’

‘She won’t announce it, Stiles.’

‘No, really. You don’t say. But I’m telling you, she’s not lying. I don’t need you telling me to try harder or Derek growling ominously in my ear. It’s not going to magically change.’ 

‘Stiles -’

‘No, Lydia,' he snapped. ‘Just, no.’ 

Lydia’s eyes widened in surprise. This was the first time Stiles had ever stood up to either of his handlers. And while it had obviously surprised Lydia, it kind of terrified for Stiles. Either of them could kill him with a pinky if he annoyed them too much. 

‘This is a matter of life or death, Stiles.’

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘You think I don’t know that? It’s _my_ life or death we’re talking about here. But I really don’t think Allison is part of it.’ 

‘You’re letting your emotions control you,’ Derek said from behind Stiles, making him jump. 

He twisted around to glare at Derek, who, judging from the sweat and shirtlessness, had been in the back, working out in the gym Stiles had still only seen from the doorway. 

‘No, I’m really not.’

Derek raised an eyebrow. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Look, I’m not saying I’m employing cold, hard logic here. I think we all know that’s never going to happen. But maybe if you both let a sliver, the smallest of slivers - nothing more - of emotion enter into the equation, you might see that what I’m saying could actually be plausible.’ Stiles shifted as Lydia and Derek turned their considerable glares up to eleven and tried to kill him with the collective power of their minds. He held up his hands in surrender. ‘I’m not saying I’m right here, but is it even a little bit possible that, as flawless as you both are, you might have read this one wrong?’ 

‘She’s an Argent,’ Derek said, leaning against the table opposite Stiles, his arms crossed. 

It was distracting. Really, very distracting. Because all that sweat-slicked skin was on view for Stiles to stare at. He had the sudden urge to lick along Derek’s collarbone. 

Stiles gave himself a mental shake, refusing to look at Lydia, just in case she had worked out the cause of his distraction. Most of his distractions, if he was completely honest. ‘Yes, okay, I get that. Really, I do. But the thing is, that’s not the only thing she is and I think you’re both kind of forgetting that.’

‘What does that even mean, Stilinski?’ 

‘Please, neither of you are that stupid. You know exactly what I mean. Just because she’s an Argent doesn’t mean she’s joined the family business. I’ve read her file, same as you have and she’s spent most of her time either at college or travelling around third world countries building schoolrooms and shit like that, so it’s not like she’s been around the crazy a whole lot. And she’s, like, the complete opposite of everyone in her family. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was adopted and had missed the psycho gene.’ 

‘Files don’t tell you everything, Stiles.’ 

‘I know that, thank you very much. But hers doesn’t exactly read like, for example, her aunt’s. Who, let’s not forget, was probably crazy before she even left the womb.’ 

‘That doesn’t mean she can’t be.’

‘Oh my god,’ Stiles said, throwing his hands up in the air. ‘You’re like a broken record. You know that, right? And it doesn’t matter how many times you say it, I still don’t think Allison is even close to being a Big Bad or even a Minor Bad.’ 

‘That’s enough about the Argent’s,’ Lydia said. ‘You’re to continue with what you’re doing.’

‘Which is nothing,’ Stiles grumbled. ‘I don’t mind hanging out with my best friend and his girlfriend but Scott sure does and Allison is definitely finding my questions on the wrong side of weird.’ 

‘Figure it out,’ Lydia told him, turning back to her computers. ‘Now leave me alone. I have important work to do before my shift starts.’

With a sigh, Stiles hoped down off the table. ‘You guys are no help whatsoever.’

He was about to disappear up the stairs and maybe go back to what he was theoretically being paid to do when Derek snagged his wrist. ‘Come with me.’ 

‘What? No. Where are you taking me? This, this is kidnapping. Lydia, save me. Lydia. Lydia.’ Lydia didn’t even glance up as Derek dragged him past her. ‘I thought saving me was part of your job,’ he called as Derek keyed in his security code.

‘Not from Derek.’

‘Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.’ 

'That doesn't even make sense,' Derek muttered. 

Lydia snorted but kept typing. 

Stiles was silently lamenting to himself about the tragedy of being surrounded by philistines when the door closed behind them and Derek dropped his wrist. 

‘So, come on then, why are you pulling me into the bowels of your lair?’ 

‘Shut up.’

‘Have you ever known me to shut up when commanded to unless my life is on the line?’ Stiles asked, rubbing absently at his wrist. It didn’t hurt, his skin just felt warm.

‘I haven’t especially noticed you shutting up then, either.’ 

‘My point exactly.’

‘Come on.’ Derek nodded his head in the direction of one of the many corridors and took a step forward, only pausing when he realised that Stiles wasn’t following. ‘Really?’ 

‘Seriously, I’m not following you until I know where we’re going and why.’ 

With a roll of his eyes, Derek grabbed Stiles and pushed until he was reluctantly walking in front of Derek, his shoulder blades itching and his neck feeling hot. All his protests fell on deaf ears as Derek directed him through the depths of Castle until they were standing outside the gym. 

Stiles’ eyes widened. ‘No.’ If Derek’s hand hadn’t been pressed against the small of his back, he would have turned tail and run.

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘Look, being all muscular, with the abs and the shoulders, may work for you, like really, really well, but it most certainly won’t work for me. I’m totally at home in my less than awesome body, so whatever plans you have made to turn me into a super soldier, unmake them now and let me run back to my life of computer geekery, gaming nights and junk food.’ 

Chancing a look up, Stiles nearly laughed at the bemused expression on Derek’s face. At least until he realised that he’d maybe complimented Derek’s abs, shoulders and general being. If he was lucky Derek wouldn’t realise that Stiles approved of Derek’s everything and think he was just complaining like usual. At least he hadn't mentioned Derek's thighs. 

‘Stiles, I have no plans to turn you into a super soldier,’ Derek said slowly. 

‘Well, that’s good to know. But, uh, why are we here then, at the gym?’ 

‘Because I _do_ have plans to improve your general fitness.’

Sties groaned. ‘But dude, why? I thought I’d just said that I was doing fine in my life of squalor.’

Derek pushed open the door and shoved Stiles through it, steadying him as he nearly tripped over his own feet. ‘Treadmills,’ he said, pointing at them, standing in a row along the far wall.

‘Is this a test? Do I have to point and say ‘rowing machine’ or ‘chest press’?’ 

‘ _You_ are going to start running here. Every day. On a treadmill.’ 

‘But -’

‘You ran track at Stanford.’ 

Stiles shifted nervously on his feet. ‘Well, yeah -’

‘And you were good. You’re fitter than you let on and you’re stronger than you look.’

‘No I’m not.’ But it said half-heartedly at best. There was a portion of Stiles’ brain taking note of the fact that not only did Derek think he’d been good at track but that he also thought Stiles was fit and strong. Even as the more rational portion was pointing out that it meant nothing. It was a professional evaluation of his abilities. Nothing more. Even if Stiles kind of maybe wanted it to be. 

‘Yes you are. Otherwise you’d be dead already. Lydia and I are the best -’

‘Most modest, too,’ Stiles muttered, earning himself a pointed glare from Derek.

‘- but even we wouldn’t have been able to keep you alive for this long if you weren’t actually somewhat capable. And you’re very good at running.’ 

‘Well, it works for the Doctor…’ Stiles trailed off in the face of Derek’s blank stare. He sighed. Something really had to be done about the huge gaps in Derek’s pop culture knowledge. ‘It seems like a good policy to adopt when there are people trying to shoot holes in me.’ 

Derek grunted in what Stiles assumed was agreement. Even if Derek tended to run towards the people trying to shoot Stiles. It could almost be called endearing if it wasn’t mostly terrifying and part of Derek’s job.

‘You need to be able to run faster and for longer. Hence, treadmill.’ 

‘Is there anyway I can talk you out of this?’ Stiles asked, already pulling off his shirt in resignation of his fate, leaving on his t-shirt. No way he was going shirtless around Derek. 

‘No.’ 

‘When I keel over and die, I’m blaming you,’ Stiles informed him, making his way across the room. Almost despite himself, Stiles was impressed by the quality of the equipment. Although it seemed only fair that Derek and Lydia got the best when they were constantly putting their lives on the line.

‘I can live with that.’ Derek went to the other side of the room, where the rowing machines were. In all honesty and with those muscles, Stiles had kind of expected him to press weights. 

‘Jerkoff.’ Because there was no way Stiles was going to admit to Derek that there was a slight thrill running through him at the thought of running again. After his abrupt exit from Stanford he just hadn’t felt like it, but now. Well, it might not be as bad as he thought. 

——

Forty minutes later, Stiles was lying spread eagle on the floor where he’d collapsed after stepping off the treadmill, gasping in deep breaths. He knew that he shouldn’t really be lying down but his knees had given out in protest and Stiles hadn’t the energy to argue with them. 

A towel hit him in the face and he reached up with a very heavy arm and pulled it away, too tired to even splutter in indignation. He did scowl when Derek stood over him, looking down. 

‘You lasted for longer than I expected.’ 

Which was kind of a double entendre but Stiles didn’t even have the energy to smirk. ‘Thanks.’ He wiped his face down with the towel.

Derek nodded, like he thought Stiles meant it. ‘You enjoyed it.’

Stiles snorted. ‘If you say so.’ 

‘Be here every day.’ 

‘Fine,’ Stiles huffed. ‘Every day.’ 

‘I’ll know if you don’t show up.’ 

‘Creeper.’ 

‘Get up.’ 

‘No, you go ahead. I’m just going to die here a little longer.’ Stiles may have enjoyed it, but that didn’t mean that he was as fit as he had been in college. 

‘If you get up now, I’ll buy you some curly fries before work.’

Stiles squinted up at Derek. ‘Are you, I don’t even know, bribing me to get up off your surprisingly clean floor with the promise of food stuffs you disapprove of?’ 

The grimace that crossed Derek’s face made Stiles grin wildly. ‘Do you want them or not?’ 

Stiles sprang to his feet, wobbling dangerously until Derek’s hands steadied him. ‘Do you even need to ask?’ 

Derek sighed a sigh of the mightily put upon. He didn’t let go of Stiles, almost as though he was worried Stiles would end up back on the floor, which was, admittedly, a legitimate concern as Stiles’ legs still seemed to be a little unsure about keeping upright. 

Pulling a face, Stiles pulled his damp t-shirt away from his rapidly cooling skin. ‘I think I need a shower before I go anywhere. And maybe some clean clothes’ 

‘Shower is through there,’ Derek said, pointing Stiles in the direction of a door he hadn’t noticed before. ‘I’ll grab you one of my spare t-shirts.’ 

‘Uh, thanks.’ Stiles felt himself flush at the thought of wearing anything that belonged to Derek. Thank god he still looked like he was dying from his impromptu workout. ‘I won’t always be this dead,’ he told Derek, dumping the now sweaty towel in the used towel bin by the door. Stiles wondered who did the laundry. ‘I just need to get back into the swing of things.’ 

Derek hummed. 

‘Seriously, dude, shut up.’ Stiles pushed open the door to what turned out to be a changing room, overly eager to get in the shower. 

‘I didn’t say a word, Stiles,’ Derek said, close on his heels. For a second Stiles wondered why Derek was following him and his entire body flushed hot before he remembered - oh, yeah. T-shirt. 

‘Your eyebrows did.’ 

‘My - you’re ridiculous,’ Derek huffed. 

Stiles snorted. ‘Point me in the direction of the showers. I feel icky.’ 

Derek pointed to the to the other side of the room. ‘Here,’ he said, throwing another towel at Stiles’ head as he walked past. 

‘Asshole,’ Stiles muttered, as he tried to keep hold of the towel and pull off his t-shirt at the same time. 

‘Tomorrow, you’re starting self-defence lessons with Lydia,’ Derek called after him.

Stiles just about managed to stop himself from falling on his face. ‘First off, are you insane? You tell me that as I’m pulling my my t-shirt over my head. Did you want me to fall over?’ 

Derek’s eyes flicked down to his chest and back up, making Stiles’ stomach flip-flop with the notion that Derek might be checking him out, which he wasn’t but part of Stiles’ brain refused to believe it. 

‘You’re still on your feet.’

‘Pure luck.’ 

‘Or you’re getting better on your feet.’ 

Stiles snorted. ‘There is no way you believe that.’ 

Derek’s eyes flicked down to Stiles’ chest a couple more times and suddenly feeling self-conscious, Stiles wrapped his arms around his chest, letting both the towel and t-shirt hang down over his stomach and hoping that Derek would assume that he was just cold. 

‘Anyway, none of that is the point. The point is, what the hell do you mean _Lydia_ will be teaching me? I. Will. Die. I’ll be killed. No-one will ever find my body.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘The point is that you don’t die.’ 

‘But Lydia? She’s awesome but terrifying.’ 

‘I’ll be teaching you as well.’ Derek smirked. ‘But Lydia got the short straw and is taking the first lesson.’ 

‘Rude.’

‘Shower.’ 

‘Then curly fries, right?’ Stiles called out as he walked through to the showers. He was relieved to discover they were separate cubicles. There was no way he wanted Derek to walk in on him in the shower. 

‘If you hurry.’

Stiles sucked in a breath before jumping under the water, determined to make sure he had enough time to get Derek to eat fries with him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You think _I_ could stop Erica? I can’t decide if you want me dead or are temporarily insane. You have noticed how she’s all kind of dangerous and just a little crazy, right? Because I definitely noticed. Of course I didn’t try and stop her. Scott would have walked in and found my lifeless body cooling on the floor. That would have sucked so bad.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I haven't undated this since July. I'm... not really sure what happened? Life and stuff, I guess. As excuses go, it's kind of lame. 
> 
> I will try to be better and get the next few chapters up quickly. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos'. I'm terrible at replying, but I love and appreciate them all.

Stiles ran down the corridor, chasing after Lydia who was marching ahead, looked worried. When Lydia looked worried, Stiles had learnt that it was time to be terrified that the world was ending. 

‘Will he be okay?’ Stiles asked. They hadn’t heard from Derek in more than an hour, not since Erica had managed to trick Stiles into giving her the stupid diamond. He maintained that it wasn’t his fault. How was he supposed to know that Erica had been working her own agenda and not that of the DEA’s? She’d been kind of cool, getting his lame jokes and geeking out with him about Batman. His guard had been down and he’d dropped the ball, so to speak. But if he managed to get Derek killed. Well, he wasn’t thinking about it. 

‘Of course he will be.’ Lydia’s voice was strained as her eyes scanned the corridor. 

‘But Erica -’

‘Won’t hurt him.’ 

‘Are you sure? Because, honestly, she’s more than a little scary.’

Lydia snorted. ‘You’re worried about Derek?’

‘…No.’ 

Lydia spared him a searching glance and Stiles tried to look as innocent as he knew how. Which, while not very, was hopefully enough to fake out Lydia. At least for the time being. 

‘I don’t need another scary NSA agent trying to scare the crap out me, thank you very much. I’ve only just about got used to Derek.’ 

Instead of answering, Lydia stopped outside a door and unholstered her gun, standing to one side and gesturing for Stiles to do the same. ‘Stay behind me,’ she said quietly. 

‘One quick question.’

Irritation flashed across her face. ‘What?’

‘Why this room?’ There didn’t seem to be anything distinguishing it from any of the other rooms they’d passed. 

‘It’s where Erica’s staying.’

‘How -’

‘I make it my business to know these things when someone turns up unexpectedly.’

‘I wish I could say that surprises me.’ 

Lydia’s smile was sharp and more than a little ball shrinking. ‘Now shut up and let me kick the door in.’ 

Stiles nodded. ‘Whatever you say.’ He hung back, letting Lydia do her superspy thing, only following her into the room when he heard her laugh. Lydia never laughed. 

‘Hale, what the hell?’ 

‘Shut up.’ Stiles didn’t think he’d heard Derek sound so put out and he heard grumpy Derek on a daily basis. 

Moving around Lydia, Stiles stumbled to a stop, his mouth hanging open. 

Derek. Well, yeah, Derek. 

Lydia had already re-holstered her gun and a hand was pressed firmly to her mouth. Stiles would bet his Star Wars figurines that she was hiding a smile. 

‘Such a cliche, man,’ Stiles said, shaking his head, grinning hard. ‘Getting dubbed by the hot girl with the killer curves and getting tied to a bed by your own shirt.’ Thank god he was still wearing a vest. Stiles didn’t think he’d be able to cope if there was much more skin an display. 

Lydia turned away, her shoulders shaking. 

‘It wasn’t like that,’ Derek grumbled, pulling experimentally at the shirt. Which didn’t budge an inch. Stiles had to hand it to Erica, she knew how to tie a shirt to a bed. He wasn’t exactly thrilled that she’d been able to to tie _Derek_ to the bed, though Stiles did enjoy watching the flex of Derek’s arms. 

‘Right,’ Stiles drawled, swallowing back his laughter. ‘She was what? Checking you for ticks?’ 

Derek growled low in his throat. 

It was probably against every field operation regulation ever and Derek was going to kill him, but, Stiles opened his mouth and let his laughter bubble out. Lydia was noticeably not speaking either, so Stiles assumed she was too busy trying not to laugh. 

Derek’s grumpy face was equal parts hilarious and adorable but when he narrowed his eyes, Stiles held up his hands. ‘Because, dude, I can’t think of may reasons you’d lose your shirt, otherwise.’ 

Derek glared mutinously at the wall. ‘Can one of you let me up?’ 

Stiles glanced over at Lydia. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed her over stomach and she was watching them, her usual blank expression back on her face. She nodded at Stiles. ‘Go on.’ 

‘Did you at least find the diamond?’ Stiles asked, kneeling by the head of the bed. Stiles had seen Derek search rooms before and it’s always difficult to tell he’s been there, but there was something about this room that made Stiles doubt he’d got around to looking. 

Derek shifted on the bed, pulling Stiles’ gaze to his hips before he snapped his eyes back to the shirt wound around Derek’s wrists. ‘The diamond you managed to give up?’ 

‘Can we let that go, please?’ Stiles huffed, reaching for the first knot on the shirt. ‘I’ve already said I’m sorry.’

‘Well, that makes it okay then,’ Derek snapped. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Quit being a dick just because someone got one up on you.’ 

Fury flashed through Derek’s eyes and his jaw clenched. 

‘That was mean,’ Stiles allowed, his hands stilling momentarily. ‘I’m just. Look, I didn’t mean to lose the diamond. But there’s something you need to know about the diamond. Something we didn’t know before.’

‘What’s that?’ 

‘It’s being used to fund terrorism,’ Lydia said, glancing over from where she’d begun opening draws and cupboards. 

‘How -’

‘Some point after I, you know, and probably before you were -’ He waved a hand to encompass all of Derek ‘- the diamond ended up in Scott’s backpack. I’m a little fuzzy on the details, to be honest with you. And I flashed on it. Definitely being used to fund the scary terrorists.’

‘You got it back?’

‘Uh, briefly. Erica appeared and kind of took it back. Again.’

‘You didn’t stop her?’ 

‘You think _I_ could stop Erica? I can’t decide if you want me dead or are temporarily insane. You have noticed how she’s all kind of dangerous and just a little crazy, right? Because I definitely noticed. Of course I didn’t try and stop her. Scott would have walked in and found my lifeless body cooling on the floor. That would have sucked so bad.’ 

Derek grunted. ‘Are you going to get my free any time soon?’

‘The knots are really tight. I honestly don’t know how it’s possible to tie a shirt so tight. Is it taught in spy school, or something?’

‘Erica isn’t a spy.’ 

‘Of course that’s the bit you zero in on,’ Stiles muttered. ‘So how am I supposed to untie you?’ 

Derek twisted slightly away from Stiles and lifted his hips off the mattress. The arch of his back and the strain on his shoulders were more than a little distracting. 

Stiles’ throat was suddenly very dry. ‘Uh -’ 

‘There’s a knife in the small of my back. Use it to cut the shirt.’

It took Stiles a moment to properly register the words and he lifedt his eyes to meet Derek’s glare. ‘Uh, you want me to -’

‘Stiles. Get the knife. Cut the shirt.’ 

‘Uh, right.’ Stiles tried really hard not to brush any skin with his fingers as he pulled up the vest enough but it was nearly impossible. Especially when he had to slip his hand past Derek’s tight waistband and fumble around until he was able to free the knife. 

As he used the knife to slice through the shirt, Stiles knew his face was flaming red and kept his gaze firmly turned away from Derek’s. As the shirt fell away, Stiles scrambled backwards, falling on his hands, needing a bit of space between him and Derek. 

Derek sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He shot his destroyed shirt a disgusted look. 

‘So what do we know?’ he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. 

‘So they’re probably going to try and kill Erica unless she hands over the diamond,’ Lydia said. 

‘Good.’

‘Derek -’

‘Do we know where they are or where she is?’ Derek rubbed his wrists absently. There were no marks on them - Erica obviously hadn’t wanted to hurt Derek - so why was he rubbing them? Frowning, Stiles flied it away to pull out and examine at a time when he wasn’t involved in a terrorist take down. 

Lydia shook her head. 

‘Well, that makes it slightly more difficult,’ he said, standing up. 

‘Shirt,’ Stiles practically squeaked. ‘You need a new shirt.’ 

‘Stiles, I’m hardly naked. I don’t think anyone’s going to notice.’ 

‘But -’ 

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles realised that Lydia was watching them with narrowed eyes. 

‘Uh,shouldn’t we be working on how to get Erica back?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Derek agreed, but he didn’t stop looking at Stiles. 

Stiles waved him towards Lydia. ‘Go. Make plans.’

As Derek and Lydia made their plans, Stiles trailed behind them, trying to stop himself from staring at Derek’s back. 

——

Stiles was camped out on the sofa, controller in hand, shooting back guys in the head with impunity, trying to calm his brain. He’d kind of assumed that being involved in near weekly shootouts would put him off shooter games but he found them weirdly soothing. It was probably a control thing but Stiles didn’t want to think about it too hard. 

His front door slammed open and Stiles wasn’t even a little surprised when he looked up and saw Erica leaning against the door frame. He was only relieved Scott and Allison were out on a date. 

‘You found Derek, then?’ Erica grinned sharply at him. 

‘Well, he wasn’t all that difficult to find, what with you leaving him tied to the bed and all,’ Stiles replied, sinking a little further into the sofa. No way he was letting on just how nervous she made him.

‘Oh, don’t be so hard on him,’ Erica said, pushing off the door frame and pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head. 

Pausing his game, Stiles raised an eyebrow as Erica stepped over his legs and collapsed on the sofa next to him. It was the most relaxed he’d ever seen her, assuming it was real and not another trick. It was probably another trick.

‘Derek is all gruff exterior but gooey marshmallow inside.’

Stiles snorted. 

‘He didn’t want to hurt me and I -’ She paused, a frown flitting across her face. ‘- I took advantage of that.’ 

‘And he lost his shirt, how?’ 

Erica laughed. ‘I didn’t seduce him, if that’s what you’re thinking.’ 

‘Why would I be thinking that?’ 

Erica raised a knowing eyebrow. ‘Because he lost his shirt,’she glanced around the room. ‘He has cameras in here, doesn’t he?’

‘Only about a billion.’ 

‘Is that all?’

Stiles laughed. ‘Are you here to dupe me into screwing up again?’ 

‘No. I’m actually here to apologise for doing that today. Twice.’

‘How were you thinking of apologising?’ Realising how that sounded, Stiles flushed. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Not that you aren’t hot and everything. You totally are and if I was more into women, especially at the moment, I’d definitely be interested. Like, so very interested, but I’m not, and -’

‘Jesus, Stiles. Stop. Now I understand the look on Derek’s face when Lydia said you liked to talk.’ 

‘Did it look pained? I bet it was pained.’ 

‘Beyond pained.’

‘Sweet.’ 

‘You have no idea how happy it makes me to think that Derek has to deal with you every single day,’ she said, grinning. ‘It’s beautiful.’ 

‘Thanks.’ Stiles frowned. ‘I think. So, come on then, how _did _you tie Derek up with his own shirt? He was really cranky when we found him.’__

__Erica gave Stiles a sly smile. ‘What do I get if I tell you?’_ _

__‘Nothing,’ Stiles said promptly, proud to have learnt his lesson. ‘Other than my eternal gratitude.’_ _

__Erica rolled her eyes. ‘I sucker punched him as he came in the room. While he was dazed I pushed him onto the bed. I had to climb on top of him to strip the shirt off and tie it to the bed.’_ _

__‘Huh. That’s less exciting than I thought it was going to be. Though, I have to say, those were some damn impressive knots, just in case you weren’t aware.’_ _

__‘Oh, I’m aware alright.’ Erica leaned in close, turning from playful to predatory in the blink of an eye. Stiles shrank as far away as he could, which wasn’t that far at all. ‘I practice my knots all the time.’_ _

__Stiles was already pressed up against the arm of the sofa and there wasn’t anywhere else for him to go when Erica climbed onto the sofa, a wicked grin on her face and a dangerous glint in her eyes. Stiles squeaked. Then, thankfully, she was being pulled backwards, and away from Stiles._ _

__Dragging her away was a very pissed off looking Derek. He was all glowering, frowning face and Stiles was horrified by how relieved he was to see it._ _

__‘Oh my god, dude, I’ve never been so thankful of those cameras.’ He jumped up off the sofa, needing more space between him and Erica. ‘You,’ he said, pointing at her, ‘are a menace. What part of "I’m mostly gay" do you not understand?’_ _

__‘Oh, I understand perfectly,' she assured him. Erica twisted out of Derek’s grip with a smile. ‘Don’t I Derek?’_ _

__Derek growled low in the back of his throat and Stiles was stupidly relieved to see that he was keeping his body between Stiles and Erica._ _

__‘What are you doing here?’_ _

__‘Just saying goodbye to my favourite analyst. No need to get your panties in a twist.’_ _

__‘You’re leaving?’ Stiles asked, his shoulders slumping as the tension bled out of them._ _

__‘No need to sound so relieved,’ Erica said, pouting. ‘I’ll think you don’t like me.’_ _

__‘Actually, I kinda do, but I don’t trust you and you kind of terrify me.’_ _

__‘Don’t worry, Stiles. I’m sure Derek would be more that happy to protect you from big, bad me.’_ _

__‘Uh -’ Because that was kind of Derek’s job, so of course he would protect Stiles. But there was something in the way Erica was saying it and the way Derek was gritting his teeth, that made Stiles think there was something in their exchange he was missing._ _

__Before he could try and figure it out, Derek had pushed Erica over to the door. ‘Leave,’ he said, pointing outside._ _

__‘You’re no fun,’ she told him. Erica peered around Derek and winked at Stiles. ‘Now be good, boys. I’ll be back to visit soon.’_ _

__Derek slammed the door shut in her face and Stiles could hear her laughter fading away._ _

__‘Is she serious about visiting?’ he asked, deeming it safe to return to the sofa._ _

__Derek rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Who can say with Erica. If we’re lucky we’ll never see her again, though.’_ _

__‘Dude, I dunno if you’ve noticed, but our luck? Kind of sucks.’_ _

__‘Don’t call me dude,’ Derek grumbled, but it was half-hearted at best._ _

__Stiles snorted as he unpaused his game. He pretty much expected Derek to huff and leave but instead he stared at the TV screen. After another minute of Derek watching Stiles kill people, Stiles reached down and grabbed another controller off the floor. He offered it to Derek. ‘At least sit down and help me win this thing.’_ _

__Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles but he did accept the controller and Stiles resisted the urge to do a little victory dance as Derek sat down next to him._ _

__Stiles really hoped that Scott and Allison’s date went on for several hours._ _


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Hey, sourpatch, get over here,’ Stiles yelled at Derek, who was skulking around the kitchen appliances. He was probably under the illusion he was being sneaky but Stiles had spotted him moving over there as soon as Allison had entered the BuyMore. Probably gave him a better vantage point or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been just over a year since I updated this. I did not think it had been that long. 
> 
> Sorry. Hopefully updates might get a little more regular now. 
> 
> Not betaed, so if you spot any mistakes, let me know.

‘Hey, sourpatch, get over here,’ Stiles yelled at Derek, who was skulking around the kitchen appliances. He was probably under the illusion he was being sneaky but Stiles had spotted him moving over there as soon as Allison had entered the BuyMore. Probably gave him a better vantage point or something.

‘Should you really be calling him that?’ Allison asked, no doubt concerned by the formidable scowl on Derek’s face.

‘Honestly, it’s one of the nicer things I call him,’ Stiles told her, watching Derek track through the store towards the Nerd Herd desk.

‘It really is,’ Scott agreed. ‘I’ve given up trying to understand their relationship and just ignore all the insults. I think it’s just a weird form of foreplay.’

‘Dude!’ Stiles exclaimed, feeling scandalised. Mostly because who knew what Derek would hear. ‘Don’t say shit like that.’

‘Why?’ Allison asked, with a wicked grin. ‘Because it’s true?’ 

Stiles was opening and closing his mouth, actually speechless for once, when Derek appeared at his side. ‘What?’ 

Giving himself a shake, Stiles waved in Allison’s direction. ‘Derek, this is Allison. Allison, Derek.’

Allison gave Derek a dimpled smile, but, wisely in Stiles’ opinion, didn’t try to initiate a handshake or any kind of physical contact. ‘Hi.’

Derek grunted and Scott glared at him. 

Stiles grabbed Derek’s arm and, pushing him towards the currently deserted entertainment room, offered Allison an apologetic smile. ‘Excuse us while I go and remind this one what manners are and how to use them.’ 

Much to his surprise, Derek actually let Stiles steer him through the store, although he stepped away once they were finally alone and fixed Stiles with one of the most impressive glares he’d ever imparted on Stiles. 

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ 

‘Maybe be more specific, dude.’

‘First, quit calling me dude. Second, why the hell are you introducing me to an Argent? Did it ever occur to you that she might know who and what I am?’ 

Stiles rolled his eyes. ‘Look, Allison’s already seen you here before, so either she’s the world’s best actor, or she had no idea who you are.’ Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles bulldozed over whatever he was gonna say. ‘So, if she did know who you are, then surely there would have been evil Argent lackey’s here long before now.’

‘Not the point,’ Derek gritted out, arms crossed in front of him, hands curled into fists, almost like he was trying really hard not to pummel Stiles to death. 

‘It’s really so very much the point, so don’t even pretend it’s not. Plus, you’ve seen her in mine and Scott’s apartment and even you have to admit that she’s never ever gone snooping. Not even once. I think it might be time for you and Lydia to admit that while the rest of her family might be part of the League of Evil, Allison is very much the opposite.’ 

Derek growled. ‘Did it ever occur to you that she might be lulling you into a false sense of security?’ 

‘Of course I’ve considered it,’ Stiles snapped. ‘My brain is a never-ending cycle of worst case scenarios, and if you think Scott’s girlfriend being part of the nefarious plot to steal my brain, wouldn't be part of that, then you’d be so very wrong.’

Derek blinked, as though surprised and Stiles swallowed down his anger that Derek didn’t think he was taking all of this shitstorm seriously. But this was about Allison, not Stiles, so he could put yelling at Derek on hold for a while. 

‘But to what end would she be lulling me into a false sense of security? Because, dude, you are with me or watching me pretty much 24/7. And if she knows who you are - which I honestly don’t think she does - then she knows that. Not to mention that if she knows what’s in my head, she’s had plenty of opportunities to kill me or kidnap me.’ Stiles sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘And look, I can’t find anything remotely suspicious about her. I’ve really tried. So maybe if you actually do more than grunt in her direction, you might be able to find out something I can’t, seeing as you have ninja training and I don’t.’

Derek stared at him for a moment, before his arms dropped and he suddenly appeared far more relaxed. ‘Fine.’ 

‘Like, really?’ 

Derek nodded. ‘That’s not a bad argument. Somehow.’ 

‘Well, I _know_ that,’ Stiles said. ‘I just didn’t think you’d see it that way. And who knows, maybe you’ll realise that there’s nothing sinister about Allison.’

Derek huffed derisively. ‘Don’t get your hopes up.’

‘Like I’m that stupid. It would just be an added bonus if it happened. Now, come on, we need to get back so you can try acting like a real boy.’ 

Derek shoved Stiles as he walked back out the entertainment room and Stiles laughed. 

Scott and Allison were still by the Nerd Herd desk, giggling together, and generally looking all kinds of adorable. 

‘How can you think she’s evil?’ Stiles hissed, bumping into Derek. ‘Come on, she’s adorable.’

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes.

‘Hey guys,’ Stiles said, waving as he sidled up next to them. 

Scott glared at Derek, but his expression turned to one of shock when Derek stepped up in front of Allison, a pleasant, almost charming, smile on his face. 

‘Stiles has reliably informed me that I was a dick and I’m sorry. I had a bad morning and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.’ 

Allison gave him a sunny smile in return. ‘It’s fine.’ She cut a mischievous glance in Stiles’ direction. ‘I can’t imagine that being called sourpatch helped.’ 

‘Strangely, not really.’ 

Stiles swapped horrified looks with Scott. This was a completely different Derek and it was freaking Stiles out. Especially since it was (to him) so obviously a fake Derek. 

‘Were you about to go for lunch?’ Derek asked. 

‘Yeah,’ Allison said, nodding. 

‘We could join you?’ Derek said, indicating between him and Stiles. 

‘What?’ Stiles and Scott both squawked together. 

‘Yeah, I’d like that,’ Allison said. ‘Any ideas where we should go?’ 

‘How about the Wienerlicious across the way? We really shouldn’t go too far.’ 

‘Sounds good to me,’ Allison said, linking hands with Scott, who was still looking like he’d been hit around the head. 

As they started walking out together, Stiles tugged on Derek’s t-shirt to make him hang back a bit. ‘Way to get Lydia involved in the whole _getting to know Allison_ thing,’ he muttered. 

Derek raised his eyebrow smugly. 

‘You’re a dick,’ Stiles grumbled shielding his eyes as they stepping into the light. ‘Also, the smiling thing totally creeps me out, just so you know.’ He shuddered. ‘It doesn’t look like you when you do it, so don’t do it again unless you really have to. Like, for science, or something.’ 

‘It doesn’t look like me?’ Derek repeated. 

‘I prefer your regular grumpy face.’ 

Both of Derek’s eyebrows climbed in surprise and Stiles nearly tripped over his feet when he noticed the tops of Derek’s ears turning pink. ‘Uh, we should get over to Wienerlicious.’

Feeling kinda dazed, Stiles nodded. ‘Uh, sure. Don’t want Lydia accidentally capping Allison.’

‘First off, we don’t call it capping,’ Derek said, a more familiar frown settling across his face. ‘Second, Lydia would never accidentally cap someone.’ 

Stiles scrunched up his face suspiciously. ‘Did you just say something nice about Lydia?’ 

‘No.’ Just before he pushed open the door, Derek turned to Stiles. ‘If you tell her, I’ll rip your throat out while you sleep.’ 

Following him in, Stiles grinned. ‘But surely it’s less scary if I’m sleeping?’ 

At Derek’s disgruntled expression, Stiles laughed and hurried over to the booth Scott and Allison were already sitting at before Derek could respond. Derek didn’t immediately join them and when Stiles looked around he and Lydia seemed to be holding a very in depth conversation with their eyebrows while Derek ordered lunch for both himself and Stiles. 

‘Dude, does he know your order _already_?’ Scott asked, kicking Stiles under the table. 

Stiles shrugged, trying to appear casual because he didn't think he'd ever told Derek his order, and he doubted it was something he and Lydia talked about when comparing notes. ‘Apparently.’ 

Scott narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, but as he opened his mouth, Allison nudged him, pulling his attention away. Stiles slumped down in his seat, relieved. He really didn’t need Scott thinking too closely about Derek and how much time Stiles was spending with him. 

When Derek slid into the booth next to Stiles, Scott paused long enough in whatever he was talking to Allison about to give Stiles a significant look, but thankfully he returned his attention back to Allison. 

Shoving a couple of straws into his milkshake, and throwing Derek a grateful smile, Stiles wondered how long he had until Scott started asking the really awkward questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You, you think I’m dating Derek?’ Stiles twisted around, checking that Derek wasn’t lurking close by. 
> 
> ‘Well, aren’t you?’ Scott asked, looking perplexed. ‘I mean, he’s always hovering around you. Always watching you. He hates it when other people touch you or flirt with you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, so if you see any mistakes let me know. I always miss a few.

Stiles paused in his typing as Scott sidled up to him with what Stiles assumed was supposed to an inscrutable look. He waited to see what Scott was thinking of saying.

‘So… Derek?’

Stiles glanced up at him. ‘…Yes?’ When Scott didn’t say anything more, Stiles pushed away from the computer and looked up at his friend. ‘What about him?’

‘He’s…kind of super intense, isn’t he?’

Stiles snorted. If Scott thought he was intense while working in a BuyMore, then he’d fall over himself to get away from a Derek decked out all in black and welding a gun. ‘If you’re only just noticing that now...’

Scott punched his shoulder. ‘Shut up. Of course I’ve already noticed. It’s impossible not to with the way he makes half the customers flee from him in terror.’

Stiles laughed, Scott rolling his eyes. ‘Why doesn’t it surprise me that you like that about him.’ 

Stiles shrugged. ‘When it’s not me he’s trying to scare the shit out of, it’s funny to watch.’ 

‘Oh, please, like you’re even remotely scared of him.’

Stiles spluttered indignantly and waved his arms around. ‘I, what?’ 

‘Don’t even with me, dude. I know you better than that.’

‘What does that even mean?’ Stiles protested. 

‘From the second he got here, you’ve been poking at him, seeing how far you could push him.’ 

Which, well. That was kind of true. Just not for the reasons Scott was assuming. 

‘And not only that, he’s been letting you. And once you stopped pushing at him you started spending time with him. Like, lots of time.’

Stiles froze for a moment. This was very much the conversation he didn’t want to have with Scott. ‘I… guess. What of it?’

Scott shook his head. ‘Nothing. Nothing. It’s not a problem. Really, not a problem. I mean, if you like him. Which I know you do.’

‘Uh -’

‘You're not subtle, you know.’

‘About what, buddy?’

‘The fact that you’re, you know.’ Scott looked at him meaningfully, waggling his eyebrows and everything.

‘I have a bad feeling that I’m not going to like whatever it is you think you know about me and Derek.’

‘Oh my god, that you’re a thing. That you’re sexing him up. Or he's sexing you up.’

Stiles felt his jaw drop and eyes bug out.

‘Or maybe just dating,’ Scott amended, taking in Stiles’ look of what was no doubt gormless shock.

‘You, you think I’m dating Derek?’ Stiles twisted around, checking that Derek wasn’t lurking close by. 

‘Well, aren’t you?’ Scott asked, looking perplexed. ‘I mean, he’s always hovering around you. Always watching you. He hates it when other people touch you or flirt with you.’

All of which could be the actions of a possessive boyfriend. Or, maybe, a government ninja assassin assigned to protect a clumsy computer geek who had accidentally downloaded a government supercomputer into his head. Stiles could see why Scott had gone with the first option.

‘Ummm.’

‘Not to mention the fact that you’re over at his place an awful lot. Like, all the time.’ 

Which was something Stiles couldn’t argue with, because it was true. He was over at Derek’s a lot, freaking out when it all got too much. The biggest surprise for him wasn’t that he’d taken up Derek on his offer, but that Derek hadn’t shot him yet for all his incessant talking, and, more than that, actually listened. 

‘I know I've been preoccupied with Allison lately, but did you think I wasn’t going to notice the fact that you’re rarely in your room when you say you are? I know where you are. And I think I have a pretty good idea of what it is you’re getting up to with him, huh?’

When put like that, it did sound an awful lot like Stiles and Derek were doing the dirty. Which. While Stiles wasn’t exactly adverse to the idea of getting it on with Derek, he was fairly certain that Derek would be all kinds of pissed at Scott for thinking that Derek would be interested in the likes of Stiles.

‘I - I, look, we’re. I mean, it’s not -’

‘I’m not going to tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Scott rushed to say, looking earnest. ‘I just wanted you to know that I know and that I’m cool with it. Derek, is all kinds of terrifying and apart from the hot and mysterious thing, I can’t really see any redeeming features, but you obviously like him and despite what you say, you’re not shallow so he must be a good guy.’ Scott shrugged. ‘I just didn’t want you thinking that you’ve gotta keep sneaking around.’

Stiles didn’t know what to say. Because Scott was in the process of demonstrating why he was such an awesome best friend because right now all Stiles wanted to do was give Scott the world’s biggest hug. So he did. ‘You are best, man,’ he told Scott’s neck. ‘I seriously love you.’

Scott laughed and hugged Stiles back. ‘Whatever, dude, you know I love you too.’

He couldn’t tell Scott he was wrong because it’d look like Stiles was still trying to lie to him. And Stiles already hated all the lying he was doing that Scott didn’t know about. He didn’t want to see the look of betrayal on his face if he decided Stiles was actually lying to him. He couldn’t do that to his best friend.

Plus, there was a little voice in the back of his brain pointing out that him and Derek dating was a pretty good cover for Stiles spending so much time with him. Scott would never question why Stiles was going round to Derek’s if he thought sex was involved. And there was an even smaller part of his brain that was kind of thrilled by Scott’s assumption that he could get a guy like Derek. That was an ego boost if ever there was one.

Stiles squeaked a little as Scott rapidly pushed him away. ‘Dude, what the fuck?’

Scott ignored Stiles’ squawking, instead staring with wide eyes over his shoulder. ‘We were just hugging like best friends. Best friend kind of hug, nothing more.’

Stiles turned to see Derek giving Scott a look that suggested he really believed that Scott had some serious brain damage and cringed because could Scott be anymore obvious?

‘I don’t even want to know,’ he muttered, taking a step closer to Stiles and grabbing the back of his neck. ‘You’re coming with me.’

Stiles shrugged as much as he could to Scott as Derek manhandled him away from the help desk and rolled his eyes when Scott gave him a thumbs up. Of course he would assume that sex was involved.

‘Hey, Stiles,’ Scott yelled, as Derek pushed open the door. ‘Remember your second interview is later this afternoon, yeah?’

‘Thanks dude,’ Stiles yelled back. ‘I’d totally forgotten.’

‘Well, remember that we need you to get it, otherwise -’ Whatever Scott had been about to say faded as the door swung shut.

Derek pulled him into the staffroom and Stiles wiggled until Derek let him go.

‘You know, it’s you doing things like that that’s got my best friend convinced that we’re boning.’

Derek paused, about to open the entrance to Castle. His usual blank face was replaced with an actual expression. Something that wasn’t anger, annoyance or impatience. In fact, Stiles didn’t think he’d seen this particular one before, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was either surprise or shock. Or even both. It was kind of hilarious. ‘What did you say?’

‘Well, you know, with the whole you keeping an eye on me, by which I mean practically stalking me and me using your place as a decompression chamber, it’s not the strangest conclusion to jump to.’

Derek raised an eyebrow before opening the entrance and shoving Stiles through.

‘What? It makes a kind of sense.’ Well, as long as you ignored the fact that Derek was drop dead gorgeous, straight and would never, ever in a million years be interested in Stiles even if he was that way inclined.

‘Right,’ Derek said dryly. ‘Makes perfect sense.’

‘I feel that you’re humouring me here.’

Derek smirked at Stiles over his shoulder. ‘But I thought I didn’t have a sense of humour.’

‘No, you definitely have a sense of humour. It’s just all kinds of fucked up.’

‘Yep.’ Derek sounded proud.

The entrance swung closed behind them and Stiles followed Derek down into the base. And Stiles still got a bit of a thrill at the idea there was a secret government base underneath his place of work, although he still hadn’t been told _why_ there’d been a secret government base built there . 

Stiles looked at Derek’s back, enjoying the play of muscles he could see. ‘So, the thing is, well, so Scott made some assumptions. About us.’

‘You’re best friend is a moron.’

‘You just don’t like him.’

‘Not really,’ Derek agreed. ‘But he’s still an idiot.’

‘I didn’t tell him he was wrong,’ Stiles admitted, his eyes half closed against Derek’s inevitable anger. And closing his eyes was a bad idea because it meant that he walked right into Derek’s chest when he stopped and turned around.

Derek’s hand shot out and steadied him. ‘You what?’

‘What was I going to say instead?’ Stiles asked, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. ‘I have a supercomputer in my head and Derek and Lydia are my government appointed bodyguards?’

‘Not that.’

‘Well, duh. But I couldn’t think of any other believable reason off the top of my head. Can you think of anything better?’ And Stiles didn’t really know how he expected Derek to respond. Because they were going to have to find _something_ else to tell Scott and there was no way Derek would want to fake being with Stiles. Plus, if that was what they ended up going with, it would only end badly for Stiles because while he thought Derek was hot - because, well, duh - and he liked the guy that occasionally cracked through the NSA agent persona, he had a horrible feeling that if he had to spend more time with Derek he’d fall for him hook, line and sinker. And well, yeah, that’d be bad.

Derek resumed walking.

‘That means you can’t think of anything better, doesn’t it?’ Stiles said, half running to to keep up with Derek. ‘It does, doesn’t it?’

Derek growled.

‘I get that it was a bad decision on my part -’ Stiles said, running down the stairs into the command station. 

‘What was a bad decision on your part?’ asked Lydia, appearing from the back.

Derek groaned.

‘N...nothing,’ Stiles said, because Lydia even getting a whiff of this would end in disaster. Hell, she’d probably suggest that he and Derek were fake together just for her own amusement.

Lydia smiled sweetly at him. ‘Would this have anything to do with the conversation you just had with your bestie?’

‘Oh, please tell me you weren’t listening to that,’ Stiles begged.

Lydia’s smile widened and she leaned over to pat his cheek. ‘Oh, sweetie, of course I was.’ She glanced over at Derek. ‘So, are you two going steady now?’

‘You’re hilarious,’ Derek told her, walking past and checking the computers.

‘I think it’s adorable,’ she cooed.

‘Lydia, could you just leave it?’ Stiles asked. Much more than this and it would stop being a joke and Derek would work out that Stiles totally had a thing for him. Stiles didn’t think that would end well.

‘Oh, you know as well as grumpy guts over there that I’m never going to leave it. However, we have a mission so I’m postponing this until after.’

‘Oh, that makes me feel so much better,’ Stiles said to himself. ‘Going from one life threatening situation to another.’

Derek snorted as he disappeared back to the armoury.

‘But hey,’ Stiles said, approaching Lydia as she beckoned him over. ‘I need to be back before 4pm. I have my interview for the assistant manager job.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Not a big deal?’ Stiles repeated, the old wounds from Stanford opening up as though they’d never even healed. ‘You do realise that it was my dream to go to Stanford? That I worked my butt off to get a full ride there and my dad was insanely proud of me.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, so if you spot any mistakes, let me know.

‘I have to go where?’ Stiles practically screeched. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ 

‘Not kidding,’ Derek muttered from where he was sitting next to Stiles, flicking through a file. 

‘I don’t care what the reason is, I’m _not_ going to back to Stanford.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Ever. Find somebody else to do it.’ 

‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Stiles,’ Lydia said. ‘It’s not such a big deal.’

‘Not a big deal?’ Stiles repeated, the old wounds from Stanford opening up as though they’d never even healed. ‘You do realise that it was my dream to go to Stanford? That I worked my butt off to get a full ride there and my dad was insanely proud of me.’ 

‘Stiles -’

‘You never saw his face when I ended up back home after getting kicked out. _For cheating._ I did see that. I’ve never cheated in my life and all it would have taken was looking back over my transcripts for the previous three years to know it. But Jackson made up some bullshit story for reasons I honestly don’t get, other than being a first rate douchebag, and everyone believed him. So, yes, it is a big deal and no, I’m not going.’ 

Derek threw something on the table in front of him and Stiles slapped his hand down to stop it falling on the floor. ‘Hey, this is my student -’

Before he could finish talking, images flashed through his brain and he realised he was looking at _his own CIA file_. The flash stopped and Stiles collapsed against the back of the chair, panting, his head killing him. ‘Why the _fuck_ does the CIA have a file on me?’ 

Matching expressions of surprise crossed both Lydia and Derek’s faces. It wasn’t often that Stiles got to surprise them, but at that moment he really didn't care because _there was a CIA file on him_.

‘What do you mean?’ Lydia asked carefully. 

‘What I mean, is that I just flashed on myself. So, I ask again, why is there a CIA file on me?’ 

Derek glanced over at Lydia. ‘Blake.’ 

Lydia frowned. ‘I don’t think -’

‘It’s the only thing that makes sense. We didn’t know about Stiles until the Intersect was in his head. The only way there could be a file on Stiles already is if Blake made one back when he was in college.’

‘You mean Blake as in Professor Blake? My psychology teacher?’ Stiles felt like his head was spinning uncontrollably. And only some of it was the after effects of the flash.

Lydia nodded. ‘And also CIA asset, who keeps an eye open for promising students to recruit for the CIA.’

‘My old professor - the one, incidentally, who believed Jackson’s bullshit story about me cheating - is a CIA asset?’ 

Derek nodded. 

‘What the hell?’ 

‘Stiles, we called you in because we got a call from her saying she’d been compromised and that she’d copied data that was in danger of falling into the wrong hands. It’s on a USB stick that she’s hidden somewhere.’ 

‘Why can’t she tell you where it is?’ 

‘Because she’s in an operating theatre, getting a crossbow removed from her back after the bad guys showed up. She wrote the location down on a piece of paper and asked us to give it to Jackson Whittemore.’ 

‘Ugh. That jackass. Of course. And where is the piece of paper?’

‘Bad guys got that too.’

‘Do you have any good news? Because, really, I thought you were supposed to be more successful on missions without me.’ 

‘I saw what was on the paper before we lost it,’ Derek said, sliding another piece of paper over to Stiles. ‘We were hoping you knew what it meant. Then we can retrieve the data first.’ 

Stiles stared at the numbers - 219 F5U922 - blankly. ‘They don’t mean anything to me.’

‘Nothing?’ Derek asked, with more patience that Stiles would have expected. 

‘Look at them again,’ Lydia ordered. 

Not wanting to lose any vital body parts, Stiles stared at the numbers some more. ‘Still nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘If I think of anything, I’ll let you know, but at the moment, they mean zip, zilch, nada.’ 

Derek rubbed a hand over his face, looking momentarily weary. ‘Go on, then. Your shift is about to start.’

Stiles slipped out of the chair and ran up the stairs. At the top he stopped. ‘I hope you work out what they mean.’ 

For the entirety of his shift, Stiles was thinking about those numbers. There was something familiar about them. He just couldn’t think what it was. 

Home after his shift, Stiles begged off Battlefield 3, still preoccupied with thoughts of Stanford, Jackson and the mystery numbers. Closing his bedroom door behind him, he leaned against it and took a few, calming breaths. Looking around his room he realised it was even more of a mess than normal and needing something mindless to distract him, he kicked off his shoes and started throwing stuff in the trash, and tidying everything up. 

He was re categorising his bookshelf when he unearthed a copy of _The Decline and Fall of The Roman Empire_. He didn’t remember buying it and when he flicked through it his stomach curdled when he saw **Property of Stanford Library** stamped on the inlay page. He’d been reading it for one of his classes when he’d got expelled and he’d never returned it. Turning the book over, he stared at the spine. ‘I know what the numbers mean.’ 

Less than a minute later his bedroom window was opening and Derek was climbing inside. ‘How?’ he demanded. ‘What are they?’ 

‘How? Because I’m brilliant. That’s how. And what they are is the numbering system for the library at Stanford.’ He turned the book still in his hand to show Derek. ‘See?’ 

There was a moment where Stiles thought he saw begrudging approval in Derek’s eyes before it reverted back to his more familiar frown. ‘And that helps us how, exactly?’ 

‘Jackson had a secret hiding place in the library. Danny showed it to me once and Jackson was pissed. I bet I can even remember where it was.’

‘First thing tomorrow,’ Derek said, ‘that’s where we’re going.’ 

‘I can’t get out of it now, can I?’ 

Derek shook his head. ‘But then, you weren’t getting out of it before. You just thought you were.’ 

‘Then I guess I’m going back to Stanford.’ 

\----

‘Is it as bad as you thought it would be?’ Derek asked, ducking his head so he could look at Stiles over the top of his sunglasses. 

‘Well, I’m not standing in the middle of the quad, naked, as everyone points and laughs at the pathetic cheater, so no, it’s not as bad as I imagined it to be.’ Stiles watched everyone walking to and from classes, laughing with their friends. ‘Instead, it’s more or less the same as it was four years ago. That’s almost worse.’ 

'Come on,' Derek said, knocking his shoulder against Stiles'. 'Let's get to the library.' 

Stiles squared his shoulders and nodded grimly. 'The sooner the better.'

Walking through the quad Stiles couldn't help but notice the attention Derek was drawing. This had to be why Derek was a ninja assassin who dressed all in black and crept through the night because all and any undercover work would be rendered null and void by his jawline and abs. Derek, though, seemed oblivious to it all. Stiles knew he wasn't; there was no way a superspy didn't know how crazy hot he was. But judging by the way he was ignoring everyone but Stiles, he just didn't care. 

'Where's Lydia?' Stiles asked as Derek ushered him into the library. 

'Around.'

'Could you vague that up for me?'

Derek shot him an amused smirk. ‘Probably.’

Waiting for the elevator, Stiles threw up his hands. ‘You’re doing that on purpose.’

‘Probably.’ 

‘Is she doing something secret for the CIA?’ 

‘Isn’t she always?’ 

Stiles narrowed his eyes. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye out for crazy bad guys trying to kill us?’

‘Because there are so many hiding in here.’ 

The doors dinged open and before Stiles could walk out, Derek growled and yanked Stiles behind him. ‘We’re trying not to get you killed, remember? Now can we hurry up and find the USB stick.’ 

In fact it didn’t take Stiles long to find Jackson’s completely and utterly ridiculous hiding place and really he was surprised that it hadn’t been found by other students. A drop box hidden on the bottom of a shelf wasn’t exactly what Stiles would call secret. 

The second the USB stick was in Stiles’ hand, the bad guy turned up. Naturally. And he brought a load of his friends to the party, too. 

Thankfully Lydia also turned up, distracting the bad guys long enough for them to run. They were chased out of the library, across the lawn, and found themselves running into one of the lecture halls in the science department. 

They ducked behind the lectern, Lydia and Derek with their guns drawn and Stiles cowering between them. While Derek and Lydia whispered furiously at each other, Stiles nudged the mouse and woke up the computer. He plugged the USB stick into the port and waited for it to load.

‘What the hell are you doing, Stiles?’ Lydia hissed. 

‘It’s a list of names,’ Stiles said. 

Next to him, Derek stiffened. ‘What?’ 

‘It’s a list of names, a few added every year.’ 

Lydia leaned over him and glanced over it. ‘It’s the names of all the agents Blake has recruited here for the last ten years.’ She pointed at the screen. ‘Look, there’s Jackson’s name.’

‘And, shit. There’s mine.’ He stared at his name up on the screen in block capital letters. ‘My name is really there.’ He looked at Derek and Lydia. ‘Why is my name there?’ 

‘I don’t know, Stiles,’ Lydia said. ‘But you need to get that list to safety. Derek and I will stay here and cover you.’ 

‘What?’ 

‘There’s a door over there,’ Derek said, pointing to one in the corner of the room. ‘We’ll be right behind you.’ 

Stiles knew that Derek was lying, but he also knew he had to obey all of Derek’s orders in the field, so when Derek and Lydia drew the fire of the bad guys he grabbed the USB stick and ran for the door, blood pounding in his ears and sweating. 

After that, it was a piece of cake. If pieces of cake included finding another computer, bringing up the list again, and calling _every name_ for the last couple of years, sitting back in pure terror and waiting for the cavalry to arrive. 

Which it did, Derek and Lydia hot on its tail. 

They were so relieved to see Stiles all in one piece that neither of them remembered to ask him for the USB stick. 

Stiles didn’t remind them. 

\----

Sitting at his desk, Stiles stared at the USB stick on the palm of his hand. On there were the answers to at least some of the questions that had been swirling around in his head for the last few months. 

‘You going to do more than just stare at that?’ Derek asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

‘Uh -’ Stiles looked from the USB stick to Derek and back. It wasn’t like he could deny the fact that government property was currently in his possession.

‘I know I’m no computer expert, but don't those usually have to be plugged into the computer to work?’

‘What?’ 

‘You’re just holding it. You may be the Intersect, but I don’t think touch technology is quite that advanced yet.’ 

Stiles snorted. 'I thought you'd be demanding I hand it over immediately.'

Derek pushed off the doorframe and walked over to Stiles. 'I'm the one who has to listen to you whine if I do that.' He grabbed the chair from next to Stiles' bed, dumping all the clothes on the floor. 'So, come on. Do what you want to do.'

Not needing any more invitation, Stiles plugged the USB stick into the port. Clicking through to his file, Stiles watched as professor Blake appeared on screen, pushing her glasses up her nose. 

_'Subject Stilinski is next. This will be his first interview.'_

Stiles and Derek watched as the door opened and Jackson walked in. Even after so many years, seeing his smug face made Stiles want to punch it. 

_'Mr Jackson, this isn't a good time.'_

_’Stilinski isn’t coming. He never got your message.’_

_’Why not?’_

_’Because I deleted it.’_

_’Mr Whittemore -’_

_’You don’t want Stilinski as part of this program.’_

_’I don’t think you get to make those kinds of determinations, Mr Whittemore.’_

_’I know his test scores are better than mine, but that’s all. He’d be terrible in the field. He’s too loud, too clumsy, too awkward and most of the stuff he babbles in class is worthless.’_

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard Jackson say before over his three years at Stanford, but for some reason, this time it hurt more. Annoyed with himself for putting stock in anything Jackson said, Stiles pushed it to the back of his mind and kept watching. 

_’You know as well I do that none of that is a reason to disqualify Mr Stilinski.’_

_’Plus, he cheated at the tests.’_

_’That’s a serious allegation, Jackson. Are you sure -’_

_’You’ll find your answer sheets in Stilinski’s room.’_

At that, Professor Blake’s expression turned grim and she turned off the camera, the screen fading to black. 

‘Oh my god,’ Stiles said. ‘Did… did that just happen? I really just see that?’ 

‘He got you bounced because you were better than him.’

‘Because my test scores were better than his,’ Stiles corrected. ‘Petty little pissant.’ 

Derek shook his head. ‘He saw you as a threat, so he eliminated you. That’s about more than just test scores.’ 

‘Me? A threat?’ Stiles laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. What about me could possibly be considered a threat?’ 

‘You can wade through and retain a lot of information. You make connections where others don’t even see them. You’re unflinchingly loyal. You read people well and have good instincts. I can think of plenty of reasons why a bottom feeding parasite like Jackson Whittemore would feel threatened by you.’ 

Stiles felt his mouth drop open is surprise and he stared at Derek. In a supreme effort to not act like Derek’s assessment of him meant something, Stiles cast around for something half way normal to say. ‘You talk about Jackson like you knew him.’ 

‘Knew him is probably pushing it,’ Derek said, standing. ‘But I was definitely acquainted with him.’ He grimaced. ‘Unfortunately.’ 

‘Was he a good agent?’ 

‘He thought he was,’ Derek said, closing the program and leaning into Stiles’ space to retrieve the USB stick. ‘And there were those who agreed with him.’ 

‘And you?’ Stiles asked, staring at Derek’s neck. averting his eyes as Derek straightened.

‘I thought there was room for improvement. A lot of room.’

Stiles smiled. ‘Thanks, dude.’

At the door Derek hesitated. ‘Would you have wanted to join the CIA back then if you’d known?’ 

‘Honestly, I don’t know.’ He bit his lip. ‘Maybe.’

Derek nodded like that had been the answer he’d been expecting. ‘I don’t need to tell you that no-one -’

‘- can know about my near miss at being a suave and sophisticated spy ala 007?’ Stiles interrupted with a sigh. ‘No, you don’t need to tell me.’ 

Derek stared at him for a moment longer before he disappeared out the door. Stiles wondered if Scott had even noticed Derek walking through their apartment in the first place. 

After fiddling about halfheartedly on his computer for a while, Stiles still felt somewhat out of sorts. He didn’t know if it was because he felt cheated out of a career he wasn’t even sure he’d want or because Derek had paid him actual compliments that had sounded like he’d thought about them a lot. But either way, he needed a distraction. 

Wandering through to the living room, he flopped down on the sofa next to Scott. ‘Give me one of those,’ he said, flicking the controller Scott was holding. ‘I’m going to kick your ass.’ 

‘Those be fighting words,’ Scott said, grabbing the other controller from where it was next him and threw it at Stiles. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harris peered out from behind his glasses. ‘You’re late.’
> 
> Stiles glanced down at his watch. ‘Uh. Not really. It’s three minutes until my shift starts.’ Stiles was becoming unnervingly on time now that he had Derek accompanying him everywhere. He didn’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, so if you spot any mistakes, let me know.

‘Nuargh.’ Stiles flailed as he closed his locker to find Harris standing on the other side, staring unblinkingly at him.

‘Mr Stilinski.’

‘Uh, Harris.’ He glanced around the staffroom to see that there was no-one else there them. ‘What… what are you doing here?’ 

Harris peered out from behind his glasses. ‘You’re late.’

Stiles glanced down at his watch. ‘Uh. Not really. It’s three minutes until my shift starts.’ Stiles was becoming unnervingly on time now that he had Derek accompanying him everywhere. He didn’t like it. 

‘From now on all staff are required to arrive fifteen minutes before their shift begins.’

‘Since when?’

‘Today.’

‘What’s so special about today?’ Stiles asked with a sinking feeling. He’d meant to phone up Finstock and reschedule his interview, but -

‘I’m assistant manager.’

‘But… what… how? Finstock -’

‘Got fed up with you always cancelling you interview at the last minute.’ Harris smiled at Stiles’ wince. ‘So he gave the position to someone with actual work ethics.’ 

‘You’re kidding me?’

‘No, I’m not. I thank you, Stilinski, for being such a worthless waste of space.’ Leaving Stiles spluttering with indignation, he walked out of the staff room, turning once he was outside. ‘Be on the shop floor in twenty seconds. We’re having a staff meeting.’

‘But it’s nearly time to open,’ Stiles yelled after him. 

Predictably, Harris ignored him and Stiles hurried to pull his shirt on over his t-shirt before hurrying out and nearly running across the shop floor to where everyone was lined up in front of Harris. Every one of them sent a dark look Stiles’ way. Not that he blamed them if this was what work was going to be like from now on. 

Stiles slipped into line, between Scott and Derek. ‘He’s actually giving a speech?’ 

Scott nodded. ‘And it’s nowhere near as awesome as Finstock’s Independence Day one on Black Friday.’ 

‘Uh, am I right in thinking that Harris is wearing a brand spanking new monogrammed t-shirt?’ 

‘I think he got, like, six of them made,’ Scott said. 

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing, because _of course_ Harris would get monogrammed t-shirts in celebration of getting the assistant manager position. 

‘He does realise that his little speech is making us open late?’ Isaac asked quietly, glancing down to the doors, where a crowd of potential customers were waiting. ‘I don’t think they’re going to care what his rules are and why they’re important.’ 

Scott winced when he glanced towards the doors. ‘They look pissed.’ 

‘Do you blame them?’ Isaac asked. ‘We were supposed to open the doors four minutes ago. And by the sounds of things it’s not happening any time soon.’ 

‘While you work for me you will obey the rules,’ Harris said, fixing each of them with his beady little eyes. 

‘What rules?’ Greenberg asked, piping up from the other end of the line. 

‘These rules.’ Harris waved a sheaf of papers he was holding. ‘Hand them out.’ 

Greenberg rushed forward, taking the papers from Harris.

When Stiles got his, he was very tempted to crumple it up and throw it at Harris’ tiny, petty head. 

**_\- No swearing_**  
 ** _\- No expectorating_**  
 ** _\- No fornicating_**  
 ** _\- No drugs (including Red Bull)_**  
 ** _\- No personal calls on the clock_**  
 ** _\- No Green Shirts fraternising at the Nerd desk_**  
 ** _\- No eating or drinking on the showroom floor_**  
 ** _\- No leaving food in the refrigerator overnight_**  
 ** _\- No swinging from the rafters_**

‘Remind me why I can’t kill him,’ Derek snarled under his breath so only Stiles heard him as Harris actually read through the rules, clarifying details he thought too complicated for them to understand.

‘This is what happens when you don’t turn up for interviews,’ Scott muttered from Stiles’ other side.

‘Shut up. I already feel bad enough as it is.’ He turned to Derek. ‘Because people might notice? Because we don’t want the cops or anyone else snooping around here?’

‘Not because it’s wrong?’ Derek asked, one corner of his mouth minutely upturned. 

‘There will also be a lunch rota,’ Harris droned on. ‘No swapping allowed.’ 

‘When Harris is concerned?' Stiles whispered back. 'No, definitely not.’ 

‘So I can kill him?’

‘Tempting, but no.’ 

‘No-one will know he was killed,’ Derek said, almost sounding like he was trying to cajole Stiles into agreeing. ‘It’ll look like a tragic accident.’

‘Are you having withdrawal symptoms?’ Stiles hissed. ‘Do we need to go find you a terrorist to hunt down?’ 

‘Stilinski,’ Harris barked. ‘Is there something you’d like to share with the class?’ 

‘Only that if you don’t want Finstock firing you before lunch on your first day, you might actually want to let some customers in.’

Harris actually looked towards the entrance then, and his face paled when he saw the crowd of people standing there, looking varying levels of irritated. ‘Well, go on, McCall. Don’t just stand there, get the damn doors open.’

‘Well, this week is turning into a complete shitstorm,’ Stiles grumbled. Derek was following him to the Nerd desk, utterly disregarding Harris’ edict that Green Shirts and Nerds didn’t mix. Secretly, Stiles was kinda hoping that Harris would try and order Derek about. ‘First I find out that Jackson got me thrown out of school because he was an insecure and jealous douche and now I find out that because I was out saving the world, I’ve lost my shot at the assistant manager position.’

‘Tragic.’

‘Not to you, maybe. But to me, yeah, it kind of is. When all this is over and done with you get to go off and be all mysterious and dangerous somewhere else. I get to stay here. And while being a kind of spy is fun at the moment, it’s hardly going to be my life’s work and I kind of need to be thinking about that.’

There was a faint look of surprise on Derek’s face, but before Stiles could demand to know why, Isaac, Greenberg, Heather and Danielle gathered round the desk, glaring at him. 

‘Where the hell were you?’ Danielle demanded. ‘You had an interview with Finstock. I know you did.’ 

Stiles winced. ‘Yeah, I did, but...’

‘But what?’ Heather demanded. ‘Did you not go? You must have not gone because if you had gone, you’d be assistant manager now and not that pissant, Harris.’ 

‘I got held up -’ Which was true. There had been a bank robbery. 

Derek snorted under his breath.

‘You rescheduled that one,’ Greenberg said. 

‘Yeah. But then I got caught in a little bit of traffic -’ If you could call stopping a foreign diplomat from blowing up a bridge and the ensuing chaos _a little bit of traffic_. 

‘You rescheduled that one, too,’ Isaac said. ‘I heard Finstock yelling about it to his lacrosse sticks.’ 

‘I nearly got to that one.’ But then he’d nearly been killed at Stanford by assassins. 

‘Did I confuse you all, using a long work like fraternisation?’ Harris snapped, marching up to desk. ‘What are you three doing here?’ He glared at Isaac, Heather and Greenberg. 

‘Asking a software question one of the customers had,’ Heather said smoothly. 

‘We all thought we’d listen to the answer,’ Isaac said. ‘In case we got asked the same question. That way we aren’t asking Stiles the same thing all the time.’ 

‘Well, get gone, the lot of you. There are customers that need your attention.’ 

Isaac and Greenberg slinked off immediately. Heather stared insolently at Harris before walking off, her head high. 

Derek waited until Harris was looking at him before he turned to Stiles with one of his creepy smiles. ‘I’ll see you at lunch, Stiles.’

‘The schedule clearly says -’

Derek fixed Harris with a look as he repeated, ‘I’ll see you at lunch, Stiles.’

‘Yeah, dude,’ Stiles said. ‘Lunch.’ 

‘Well, we’re going to have to do something,’ Danielle said as they watched Harris stalk away. ‘There’s no way we’ll survive more than a week of Harris ruling over us.’ She glanced over at Derek as he hefted a washing machine. ‘I’m thinking we could sick Hale on him.’

‘Uh, don’t say that where Derek can hear you,’ Stiles advised. ‘He’d actually go for it.’ 

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ Danielle said, before turning and offering a dazzling smile to person on the other side of the Nerd Desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was five hours until his shift started and Stiles couldn’t afford to have Harris spot him sneaking through to the staffroom. He especially couldn’t afford to have Harris discover the super secret entrance to the underground CIA lair that was behind the lockers. 
> 
> Lydia would kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, so if you see any mistakes, please point them out. I know a few are going to have slipped past my not so keen eye. 
> 
> You may also notice that I've added how many chapters I think this is going to be. It's probably not exact, but it's (somehow) going to end up in that ballpark.

It was five hours until his shift started and Stiles couldn’t afford to have Harris spot him sneaking through to the staffroom. He especially couldn’t afford to have Harris discover the super secret entrance to the underground CIA lair that was behind the lockers. 

Lydia would kill him.

Thankfully, Harris was on the other side of the store, deep in conversation with a couple of particularly pernickety looking customers, so Stiles slipped around the side, somehow missing everyone. Even Isaac and Heather. 

He was clattering down the stairs into Castle when he glanced over and saw _Jackson fucking Whittemore_ leaning against the table, larger than life and _definitely not dead_. His feet disappeared from under him and he fell down the last few steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. 

‘No need to fall at my feet in celebration of my miraculous resurrection, Stilinski,’ Jackson said, douchebag smirk well in place. 

As he gawped at Jackson who was smirking down at him, Derek’s hands hooked under his arms and he dragged Stiles to his feet, muttering, ‘idiot,’ under his breath. 

‘How, but - what?’ He turned so he could stare at Derek in confusion. ‘Derek, Jackson’s alive.’ 

Derek let go of him slowly, but stayed close. ‘I know.’ He sounded about as happy about it as Stiles felt.

‘But _why_ is he alive? _How_?’ 

‘No-one really knows,’ Derek said, glowering hard at Jackson. 

‘But -’

‘We found him on the last mission,’ Lydia said, from where she was standing in front of one of the monitors. ‘He was what Kate was transporting.’ 

‘Oh.’ Stiles rubbed his neck. ‘I’m still really confused.’ 

Behind him, Derek snorted. ‘We all are.’ 

‘Were either of you going to tell me?’

‘We got only got back a couple of hours ago, Stiles,’ Derek said, stepping to stand next to him, arms crossed, still glowering at Jackson. ‘We’ve just finished the debrief. There’s not been _time_ to tell you.’ 

‘But you were going to?’ 

Derek nodded. ‘It would have been hard to keep from you, what with you spending so much time down here.’ 

‘Ah, Stilinski, still trying to hide away from the world, I see.’

To Stiles' delight, Derek growled and Jackson flinched.

‘Says the guy who nearly got me thrown in some underground CIA bunker for the rest of my days when he sent me a computer program that downloaded into my head.’ 

‘How _is_ your noggin, Stilinski?’ 

‘A bit scrambled, if you must know.’ 

‘I’m surprised you can tell the difference.’ 

Stiles’ hand clenched at his sides. ‘Asswipe.’ 

‘You’re just jealous you’re not an agent like I am.’

‘The way I heard it - straight from your own mouth, so don’t try to deny it - is that you were so scared I would be a better agent than you, so you got me wiped from the program.’

‘More like I saved this country from the disaster that is you.’

Stiles snorted. ‘More like I tested off the charts, but you were distinctly average.’

Jackson’s nostrils flared in anger and his mouth was set in a white, angry line. It was one of the best things Stiles had ever seen. 

Lydia stepped between them, Stiles only belatedly realising that he and Jackson were very nearly standing toe to toe, snarling at each other. ‘Boys, none of this posturing is helping.’ 

‘Tell that to Jackson,’ Stiles muttered, glaring off to the side. 

‘I’m telling it to both of you. We have no time for this petty rivalry.’

‘Fine,’ Stiles said, backing down and going to stand next to Derek, who was leaning against the wall. Stiles knew he’d at least stop Stiles from putting himself in a position to get his ass kicked by Jackson. ‘So, apart from stocking up on your fancypants hair gel, why are you back from the dead?’ 

Jackson glared at him. ‘Sorry, Boreinski, that’s need to know only.’ 

‘There are rumours that there’s a new Intersect prototype being engineered by the Argents,’ Derek said, his voice little more than a growl. 

‘What the fuck, Hale?’ Jackson half yelled. ‘He doesn’t need to know that.’

‘He’s the Intersect. _I_ think he does need to know that.’

Warmed as he was by Derek not hesitating to tell him - even if it seemed mostly motivated by Derek’s intense dislike of Jackson - he had other thoughts running through his brain. ‘Wait, what? How?’ 

‘They bought some of our scientists,’ Jackson said, sounding serious for the first time since Stiles had met him. 'They have so much more money to throw at people than we do.'

'And they're making a new Intersect?'

Lydia nodded, looking troubled. 'It certainly sounds like it.'

'Is it ready to be deployed or are they still in the theoretical stages?'

'We don't know,' Lydia admitted, voice clipped with frustration. 'The Argents think that the Intersect is in Jackson, even if it’s not operational. They were transporting him over to their labs for... something.'

‘And Jackson helpfully knows nothing, I bet,’ Stiles said.

‘I was unconscious, Stilinski,’ Jackson gritted out. ‘They’ve literally had me on ice for the last several months.’ 

‘It’s actually amazing that he woke without permanent damage,’ Lydia said, glancing at Jackson. 

‘Probably because he _is_ permanent damage.’ 

Jackson narrowed his eyes at Stiles and his lip curled. 

Derek shifted next to Stiles, and Jackson’s eyes flicked to him, looking suddenly wary. 

‘Do you think they were going to put the new Intersect in you?’ Derek asked. It was the least hostile he’d sounded speaking to Jackson. 

‘Hoping you get another shot at me, Hale?’ 

‘I shouldn’t need another shot,’ Derek snarled. 

Stiles glanced from Derek to Jackson and back again. ‘Uh, what’s going on here? Because something is definitely going on here.’ 

Derek shook his head. ‘Drop it, Stiles.’ 

Stiles turned and gave Derek his most incredulous look. ‘Have you met me?’ 

Derek was still glaring at Jackson, and Stiles cocked his head, thinking, before a few things clicked together and laughter bubbled out of him.

All three agents turned and stared at him, matching expressions plainly telling him they thought he was crazy. 

Stiles, though, was only looking at Derek. ‘Oh my god, you were totally the agent who shot Jackson,’ he managed to gasp. Worried he was about to end up on the floor, Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s forearm to keep him upright and kept on laughing. ‘I’m right, aren’t I? You shot Jackson?’ 

Derek didn’t shake Stiles off his arm, he just nodded, brow furrowed in confusion. 

Managing to get his laughing under control, Stiles beamed at him. ‘Dude, I always knew I liked you, but right now you are my new favourite person.’ 

‘For shooting Jackson?’ Derek said slowly. 

Stiles bounced on his toes. ‘Yep.’

'Suck a ballsack, Stilinski,' Jackson snapped. 

Derek raised an eyebrow. ‘For shooting him dead?’ 

Stiles shrugged. 'Well, it didn't stick, but yeah.'

'Would you prefer that it had stuck?' Derek asked curiously and Stiles swore he saw Derek’s hand twitch in the direction of his gun. 

'Do you think we could move back on topic?' Lydia asked, giving them all the same unimpressed look. 'The point is that Kate is going to be looking for Jackson so we need to get him to the CIA without him falling back into Argent hands.’

Stiles shrugged. 'Well, that’s easy,’ he said. ‘All we need to do is get a team here, have me check them out with the Intersect to make sure they aren’t rogue and then Jackson can be disappeared once and for all.’ 

Derek pushed off the wall. ‘That’s actually a pretty solid plan.’

‘Then let’s do it,’ Lydia said. ‘I’ll call the director.’ 

\----

‘You know, this is all Jackson’s fault,’ Stiles yelled at Derek over the gunfire. ‘Nothing is ever easy with him.’ 

Derek didn’t say anything, just kept on returning fire. 

At least Stiles had managed to get Greenberg to use the panic word - FREEDOM - reserved for use only on Black Friday, when it had become obvious that there was a team of bad guys in the store, determined to kill Stiles. 

It had prompted a full evacuation of the store. Even over the stampeding crowd, Stiles had been able to hear Finstock yelling at everyone that there was no emergency and that Greenberg was an idiot. It hadn’t worked and Derek and Stiles were alone in a deserted store, facing off against a team of hostile operatives. 

Or, well, _Derek_ was facing off against a team of hostile operatives. Stiles was cowering behind him, and gripping the bottom of Derek’s t-shirt in his hand, like Derek had told him to.

‘Do you think Lydia’s okay?’ Stiles asked. 

She had accompanied Jackson to the transfer site and if there were operatives here, it wasn’t a stretch to assume other operatives had gone after her and Jackson as well. 

‘Lydia will be fine,’ Derek said, reloading. 

Stiles nodded, needing to believe that Derek was right. ‘How do you think that Argent operative - Aiden - worked out I was the Intersect?’

Derek shook his head. ‘No clue. You sure that’s his name?’

‘I flashed on his file as soon as he walked through the door,’ Stiles said. ‘The Intersect never lies.’

‘Then I intend to ask him not only that, but how he’s so very alive for someone who should be very dead.’

Derek’s voice promised violence to anyone stupid enough to oppose him and Stiles was just glad that not only was Derek on his side, but that he seemed more pissed than usual that people were trying to kill Stiles. 

In a lull there were a few gunshots and to Stile’ momentary surprise, Derek shoulders relaxed, even as he kept scanning the area. ‘That’s Lydia.’ 

‘How do -’

Lydia’s voice rang out across the store. ‘Derek?’ 

Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly in relief. He hadn’t realised how worried he’d been about her until then. 

‘I’ve got him,’ Derek called back. 

‘Keep him safe. We’re coming to you.’ 

Stiles couldn’t really say with much accuracy what was happening around him. All he knew was that while Jackson and Lydia seemed to be going around the store, taking out bad guys, Derek had a hand on Stiles’ neck, guiding him back towards the entertainment room, shielding Stiles with his body. Any bad guy that got too close was down within seconds and Stiles was fairly certain they weren’t getting back up again. 

‘Won’t they kill us in here?’ Stiles asked as Derek pushed him through the door. 

Derek tapped the glass. ‘Bulletproof.’ 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. ‘For real?’ 

‘NSA installed it.’ 

‘So we’re safe in here.’ 

‘As long as they don’t have a rocket launcher,’ Derek muttered, peering out of the door.

‘Don’t say shit like that,’ Stiles snapped. ‘You know how shitty our luck it. They probably have one of those.’ 

‘Nah, they don’t have any heavy weaponry with them.’ 

‘That’s not as comforting as I thought it would be,’ Stiles said, more to himself than Derek, as Derek was more focused on making sure no-one got too close to the entertainment room. 

It like both forever and no time at all when Lydia and Jackson called the all-clear. 

Walking out of the entertainment room behind Derek, Stiles’ eyes kept darting around, expecting to see just one more bad guy ready to try and take him out. 

It didn’t happen, but Derek seemed to realise that Stiles was more freaked out than usual, because he kept a hand pressed to the middle of his back as they walked through the mess of the store. 

Lydia and Jackson were standing by the Nerd desk, guns still out, surrounded by several bodies.

Even as he talked to Lydia and Jackson about the attack he seemed to be focused on Stiles and Stiles couldn’t help but feel pathetically grateful. He knew that Derek’s job was to keep him alive, not to care about how he coped with the shitstorm his life had become. 

Stiles made a noise in the back of his throat and Derek threw him a concerned look. Stiles shook his head, not wanting to interfere with Derek’s job. 

‘I need to take Stiles home,’ Derek said. 

‘Clean up crew are here,’ Lydia told them. ‘You need to stay and talk to them, if only for a moment. I would do it, but they’re NSA and they won’t listen to me.’ 

‘Uh, how will they get in?’ Stiles asked. ‘There’s kind of a huge crowd gathered outside.’ 

‘Dressed like firemen, come to check out the alarm.’

‘Ah, of course. Why didn’t I think of that.’ Now he thought about it, the alarm probably went through to the NSA, which would explain why no cops had arrived. 

As the clean up crew appeared and got to work, Lydia, Jackson and Derek conferring with the team leader, Stiles stayed as out of the way as he could while still able to see Derek. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for a couple of days and forget what the BuyMore floor looked like when it was strewn with bodies and blood. When he’d started all this, he’d never once thought that the place where he worked could look like a war zone. 

Lydia and Jackson left not soon after, to finally get Jackson safely back into the bosom of the CIA.

Derek, though, was still involved in the clean-up and so Stiles was perched on the Nerd desk, waiting, arms wrapped around his stomach. 

In the middle of saying something to the woman in charge of the clean up team, Derek glanced at Stiles and frowned. Absently he shook his head at whatever was said to him, before walking over to Stiles. 

‘Let’s get you out of here,’ he said. 

‘But you’re busy,’ Stiles said, letting Derek help him off the Nerd desk. 

‘Not that busy.’

‘But -’

‘You’re too quiet. I’m taking you home.’ Derek’s tone brooked no argument, so Stiles relented and nodded, body sagging relief. 

‘Braeden,’ Derek called, and the woman he’d been talking to turned, eyebrow raised in question. He pointed at Aiden, who was somehow still alive, even if he was unconscious right then. ‘That one there, no-one speaks to him but me. Understand?’

Braeden nodded. ‘Whatever you say, Hale.’ 

Derek led Stiles out of the BuyMore with a hand on his back and Stiles had to will himself not to slump against Derek’s side. 

‘I’m taking you home -’

‘Can I crash on your sofa?’ Stiles asked. ‘I don’t think I can put on a show for Scott today.’ 

Derek nodded. ‘I’ll take you to mine. Then I’m going to go and have a chat with Aiden.’ 

On the drive home, Stiles turned from where he was staring out the window, watching the building fly by. ‘What do you think will happen to Jackson? Do you think he’ll end up in an underground bunker until the Argents are no longer a threat?’

Derek gave a derisive huff. ‘No. I think they’ll debrief him again and then send him out on a mission.’ 

‘Oh. And that doesn’t bother you?’ 

‘Why would it bother me, Stiles?’

‘Because you’re here, babysitting me, while that douchebag gets to go out on missions.’ 

‘First off, what Jackson calls “missions”, I call milk runs. He’s more than welcome to them.’

Stiles snorted. 

‘Second, what I’m doing is far more important that any mission Jackson could be sent on. And finally,’ he said, pulling into the parking lot at their apartment complex, ‘I’m exactly where I need to be.’ 

‘Oh.’ 

‘Now get out of the car,’ Derek said, opening his door. ‘You need to sleep and I need to go and have a little conversation with Aiden.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work had been shitty, Harris had been a dick, there’d been a douchebag customer who had reminded him too much of Jackson, and all he wanted to do was wallow in self pity for a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so if you notice any mistakes let me know.

Body feeling heavy, Stiles pushed open the door to Derek’s apartment and dropped his bag by the door, pausing to kick off his shoes. The one time he’d forgotten to take his shoes off, Derek had glared at him like he was seriously considering disemboweling him. Apparently government ninja assassins were fussy about wood flooring. 

Work had been shitty, Harris had been a dick, there’d been a douchebag customer who had reminded him too much of Jackson, and all he wanted to do was wallow in self pity for a few hours.

Sometimes he hid out in Castle - which was way more fun now he was considered trustworthy with all the computers and other tech - but right now all he wanted his sofa, Reeses Pieces and his PSP. Home wasn’t an option because Allison was around and he couldn’t cope with dopey Scott right at that moment, so he was taking refuge at Derek’s. 

There was a rule that Stiles wasn’t allowed in Derek’s apartment alone, but all Stiles wanted to do was sack out on the sofa and try to get some sleep and try to lose the jittery feeling he’d had since Jackson had come back to life. Sleep was proving elusive during the night and he was grouchy during the day. Derek’s seemed like the perfect place to try and sort out his grumpy ass. Especially as he knew Derek wouldn’t be there. 

So when he walked round the corner and saw Derek sitting at the table, cleaning his guns, he shrieked and nearly fell on his ass.

Derek didn’t flinch or even look up. Instead he kept on cleaning his truly scary collection of guns. There was enough to arm a small country. Or a big one. 

‘Couldn’t you have yelled hello?’ he breathed, pressing a hand to his chest, gulping in air.

‘Nope.’

‘Or made some other noise to indicate you’re here?’

‘Nope.’

‘Because scaring the crap out of me brings you much joy.’

‘Yep. And this is my apartment and if I don’t want to say anything, I won’t.’ Derek sounded kind of zen. He must have been cleaning his guns for a while. It still freaked Stiles out how relaxed Derek got from stripping and cleaning his arsenal of weapons. He would lay them all out, and methodically take them apart, clean them and put them back together. Stiles still hadn’t decided if he found it soothing or terrifying. ‘Shouldn’t you have expected me to be here?’

‘What? Yeah, sure. Huh?’

Derek paused, gave Stiles a searching look and put down the gun, pressing his hands flat against the table. ‘Stiles, did you break into my apartment assuming I’d not be here?’

‘You gave me a key. How is that breaking in?’ Derek glared at him for maybe five seconds before Stiles folded. ‘Maybe. You told Lydia you had an appointment.’

‘It got cancelled,’ he said shortly. ‘You know the rules.’

‘Yeah, I know. I know. No being in your apartment without you here. Something about how I could blow it sky high without adult supervision.’ Which always made Stiles worry about just what Derek had hidden around the place. ‘Is it okay if I crash on your sofa for a while?’

‘What’s a while?’ 

Stiles shrugged. ‘Scott’s got Allison over.’

‘So go -’

‘They aren’t exactly playing on the PSP, dude,’ Stiles interrupted with a grimace. He really didn’t need the reminder that his own love life was floundering big time while Scott’s was flourishing. ‘I got a text from Scott.’

A look of disgust passed across Derek’s face. ‘Fine,’ he huffed. ‘You can stay here until she leaves.’ He picked up the gun again.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

Derek rolled his eyes.

‘It’s not that I begrudge Scott a sex life,’ Stiles said, disappearing into the kitchen and grabbing a can of coke from the fridge. ‘But I am man enough to admit that I’m horribly jealous. While I’m being thrown from one mission impossible to the next, he’s having a whale of a time falling in love.’

It wasn’t that Stiles was looking to fall in love. His life was crazy insane and only an idiot would think they could maintain a relationship while being at the government’s beck and call. He’d end up breaking promise after promise as Lydia and Derek dragged him out to watch them be Big Damn Heroes time and again. 

The worst being that that wasn’t even the deal breaker. It had been nearly six months, and he was just as hung up on Derek as he had when they’d first met. More, even. Until he got his epic sized crush on Derek out of the way, he was off the market. If he wasn’t so busy being scared for his life on a weekly basis he’d probably be more pissed than he was. As it was, his crush on Derek was pretty much the most normal thing to happen to him since he’d been Intersected.

‘She’s an Argent.’

‘No, we’re not doing this again,’ Stiles said, walking past Derek and depositing a glass of juice on the table next to him. ‘Allison’s cool. I know her grandpa and aunt are the craziest crazies in all of Crazodea, but she’s never even held citizenship. But, let’s say you were right and she’s ends up being evil incarnate, that still doesn’t mean Scott hasn’t been falling in love, does it?’ 

‘Still doesn’t mean she isn’t using him.’

‘Well aren’t you all rainbows and sunshine?.’ Stiles put the can on the coffee table in front of the sofa and collapsed onto the cushions. It felt like every muscle in his body was uncramping and he couldn’t hold back the moan of relief. ‘You’ve met her now. How can you still think she’s some nefarious wench looking to break my BFFs heart?’

‘Because she’s an Argent.’

‘You, my friend, are like a broken record.’

‘And it’s not Scott I’m worried about.’

Stiles levered himself up onto his elbow so he could see Derek over the back of the sofa. ‘She’s not a plant.’

‘You can’t know that.’

‘Maybe not,’ Stiles agreed, enjoying the way Derek looked thrown off balance by Stiles agreeing with him. Even if was going to be short-lived. ‘But you also don’t know that she is.’

A look of pure frustration crossed Derek’s face and Stiles felt his resolve crack, just a tiny bit. 

‘Look, it’s not like I’m going to break down and tell her anything.’ Stiles dropped back on the sofa and let his body go boneless. For a ninja assassin who didn’t believe in comfort, Derek sure had the comfiest sofa Stiles had ever laid on. ‘And I’m following all your rules about not being alone with her and not going anywhere with her. And you’ve probably got me bugged to kingdom come and will know if I lie, so what’s the big deal? I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt because I think her and Scott are awesome together and if I’m going to have to die alone with a computer in my head, he sure as hell isn’t.’

‘You’re not going to die alone, moron.’

‘I am until we get this thing out of my head. I don’t think this is exactly compatible with a healthy relationship, do you?’

‘You won’t be the Intersect forever.’

‘But I am for the foreseeable future. And, honestly, I don’t really want to be throwing five or ten year plans around when I don’t even know what next week is going be bring.’ He rubbed his eyes and let his arm fall across his face. ‘Ignore me. I’m all grouchy.’ 

‘Then get some sleep.’

‘That’s my cunning plan.’ 

‘I’ve still got a lot to clean. Sleep as long as you want.’ 

‘I can do that.’ Stiles closed his eyes, not really expecting to actually get any sleep, but willing to try.

He woke to Derek moving around the room and tidying away his arsenal. Most of it seemed to live in the main room and kitchen but he took a worrying amount upstairs.

‘Dude, just how much do you have holed away in this place?’ he asked, pushing himself into a sitting position, as Derek stepped off the stairs. ‘If it all explodes will it make a Hellmouth sized crater?’

‘I have no idea what that means,’ Derek admitted.

‘Not really a _Buffy_ fan, huh?’

‘What the hell is a Buffy?’

‘ _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. Show about a girl called Buffy who hunts vampires.’

‘That sounds ridiculous.’ 

‘It does,’ Stiles agreed. ‘But that was kind of the point.’ 

‘Why the hell would that be the point?’ 

Stiles laughed and rolled his shoulders. ‘I’m fairly certain we’ve established that you don’t watch TV shows. Is that because they aren’t your thing or because you’ve been James Bonding it all over the world and haven’t had the time in between all the ninjaing and the scaring bad guys dead.’

In the kitchen Derek was filling the kitchen. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Well, yeah. Because if they’re not your thing then I’ll not even bother trying to introduce you to some of the awesomeness you’ve missed over the years. But if, on the other hand, you’d actually like to watch some TV but are overwhelmed by the sheer breadth of what’s available, I’d be more than happy to offer my services as the in-house geek and suggest something I think you’d like.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Derek said dryly, ‘if I ever find myself at a loose end.’

Stiles grinned. ‘Oh, hey. Did Harris manage to run you to ground before you left today?’

‘No.’

‘Well, be warned, he’ll probably be on the warpath tomorrow.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he’s Harris and a class A dickbag?’

‘Who I still can’t kill,’ Derek grumbled. 

‘Not yet, no.’ 

‘You mean I might be able to eventually?’ 

‘You really don’t like Harris, do you?’ 

‘I don’t like bullies.’

A mug suddenly appeared in front of his face and Stiles flinched. The aroma made it obvious that it was hot chocolate and Stiles grabbed it gratefully. ‘You’re amazing,’ he said reverently, breathing deeply. He honestly couldn’t say if he was talking to the hot chocolate or Derek. Both were plausible.

‘And Harris is a petty, small-minded ass, who feels inadequate and is jealous of all of you, so he does his best to run you into the ground and make you all as bitter as him.’

‘Maybe you should kill him,’ Stiles said. 

Derek huffed in amusement, disappearing back into the kitchen. 

‘Yeah, maybe not.’ He took a drink of his chocolate and wrapped his hands around the mug. ‘Do you know what’s worse than all that? Worse than Scott being a sap and Harris being an ass.’

‘What?’ Derek asked, walking back into the room with his own cup of coffee. He sat on the coffee table, staring at Stiles thoughtfully. 

‘The fact that I haven’t seen my dad in nearly two months and the last time I did see him was for all of ten minutes because I kept freaking out that I was going to say something and he was going to be thrown into some unknown government facility so I practically ran away. It was awful.’

Stiles huffed out a dejected breath. ‘I hate not seeing him. And I can tell that he doesn’t get it, that he thinks he either did something or something’s up with me. I keep telling him I’m just busy but he doesn’t believe that. _I_ wouldn’t believe that.’ He thumped his head against the back of the sofa a couple of times. ‘I hate lying to him. Even more than to Scott.’ 

‘You don’t usually talk about your dad,’ Derek said quietly.

‘No,’ Stiles agreed. He took a sip of coffee and moaned appreciatively. ‘Because if I don’t think about it, then it’s not really happening. I’m not really lying to him.’ He pulled his legs up under him and grabbed a cushion, hugging it to his chest. ‘Plus, Scott’ll probably think it’s cool, but my dad’ll be hurt and worried I didn’t tell him. It kind of sucks ass.’

‘Is that why you’ve been having problems sleeping?’ 

‘What says - oh. The cameras say, I’m guessing.’

‘As do the headaches, irritability and circles under your eyes.’ 

‘Oh.’ It wasn’t like he had thought that Derek wouldn’t have noticed him being out of sorts, but it still warmed him to know that Derek had. 

Derek drank his coffee and watched Stiles with an expectant expression on his face. 

‘It’s one of the reasons,’ Stiles admitted. ‘But it’s not the only reason.’

‘What else is there?’ 

‘You mean why am I all freaked out other than the BuyMore becoming a bloody battlefield.’ 

A look of understanding crossed Derek’s face and he hummed. 

‘Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m being unreasonable. The missions I can just about cope with. Barely. But that was at my place of work, Derek. It’s one of the few normal things left in my life and nine days ago it was dripping with blood because of me. What if people I care about had gotten hurt or killed because of me?’ 

‘It’s not because of you,’ Derek said. 

Stiles snorted. ‘Could have fooled me.’

‘If you’re going to blame anyone, blame Jackson. He was the idiot who emailed you the Intersect. Or blame the government morons who thought something like the Intersect was a good idea.’ 

Stiles swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and stared at Derek. 

‘But none of this is your fault. It was a thing that was done to you and you’re coping a hell of a lot better than I expected.’ 

‘I… I really needed to hear that,’ Stiles said weakly, feeling more than a little stunned by Derek’s words. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, Stiles,’ Derek said, shaking his head. ‘I’m part of the problem.’

Stiles shook his head. ‘No. I get why you think that, but no. You’re not.’ 

‘Stiles -’

‘No, seriously, dude. I would have died a dozen times over if not for you. And Lydia,’ he added. ‘But that’s not the point. The point is that you let me do -’ He waved his hand between Derek, himself and the room ‘- all this. I would have gone crazy and you didn’t have to do that. And don’t you even think of doing that thing where you pretend you had to do it because I was annoying you.’ 

‘But you were very annoying,’ Derek said, pressing his lips together, which did nothing to disguise his amusement. 

‘Shut up.’ He was half tempted to throw a cushion at Derek’s head, but that would require more energy than Stiles currently possessed. 

‘But you should try and find a way to see your dad.’ 

‘Thanks for the advice,’ Stiles said dryly. 

Derek shrugged and handed him a bunch of takeout menus. ‘Decide what you want and phone it through.’ 

‘I’m staying for dinner?’

‘I checked the feeds just before you woke up. You don’t want to go back there yet.’

Stiles shuddered, not wanting to think about what he could have walked in on. He loved Scott, but there were some things one didn’t need to know about their nearly brother. Though, having said that, it did mean that he got to spend more time with Derek, which he was never going to whine about. ‘Wait. Are you going to have some, too?’ 

‘Of course.’

‘Really?’

‘Is that really so surprising?’ 

‘Uh, yeah. You eat muesli.’ 

Derek huffed in amusement and pushed to his feet. ‘Because eating muesli is so damning.’ 

‘And you better believe it,’ Stiles muttered, flicking through the menus, looking for something to take his fancy. 'And I'm loading up Netflix so I can start your TV pop culture edumication while we eat.'

There was no disagreement from wherever Derek was in the apartment, so Stiles took that as tacit agreement and grinned to himself, already planning what to show Derek first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I thought Scott was staying at Allison’s tonight.’
> 
> ‘He is,’ Stiles hissed. He recoiled slightly when he realised that there was a gun in Derek’s hand. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’ It hadn’t been in the waistband of his jeans; Stiles would have seen it. Did - did Derek have weapons stashed around his and Scott’s apartment? Obviously he and Derek were going to have to have words later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, so if you see any mistakes, let me know. 
> 
> [If anyone is wondering where the next chapter of 'Maybe Together...' is, it's SO DAMN CLOSE to being posted. Like, probably the end of the weekend, maybe Monday.]

‘So, let me get this right,’ said Stiles, jumping up onto the counter and grabbing a carrot stick from the vegetables piling up. 'You’re cooking for me?’

Derek grunted.

He didn’t falter in his chopping of vegetables and for a moment Stiles was all distracted by the subtle play of the muscles in Derek’s arms and shoulders. Stiles was definitely of the opinion that the vests that Derek favoured on his downtime (even if Derek insisted he never _had_ downtime) were simultaneously the most awesome thing ever and the most torturous. It wasn’t a good idea to map out the broadness of Derek’s shoulders or think about how he’d like to run his hands down Derek’s back while Derek was standing right there. He clenched his fist and gave himself a little shake.

‘No, really, you’re cooking for me?’ He reached out with a foot to poke Derek in the back, but was nearly pulled off the counter when Derek’s hand flashed out and grabbed his ankle. He stared down at where Derek’s hand was circling his ankle. ‘How the hell did you even do that?’

‘I won’t be cooking for you if you keep kicking me.’ Of course he’d ignore Stiles’ totally legitimate question. 

‘I haven’t even kicked you once yet,’ Stiles protested, his voice strangled. All he could focus on was the ring of heat circling his ankle, right where Derek’s fingers were. 

‘And it better stay like that,’ said Derek, finally letting go.

And while it was a good thing, like a really, really good thing - timely, even - it was also disappointing.

‘So if I promise not to kick you, you’ll tell me what you’re cooking?’

‘Yes.’

After waiting for a moment or two for Derek to tell him, Stiles remembered just who he was dealing with. ‘Oh my god, are you twelve? I promise, okay? I promise not to kick you again.’

‘Spaghetti bolognese.’

‘Oh, wow. Really? I love that. It’s one of my favourites.’ Which, had Derek somehow found that out? Stiles imagined it wouldn’t be all that hard for a superspy to do. It was probably mentioned numerous times on his Facebook. He just couldn’t work out _why_ Derek would want to find out something like that.

Derek grunted in a way that suggested to Stiles highly trained ears that he _had_ known that. Which made Stiles feel _things_. 

‘Can I ask why you’re cooking for me?’

‘You eat crap.’

‘No I don’t.’ 

‘Every night this month, you and Scott ate either takeout or frozen meals.’

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but then remembered that Derek quite literally had a line into his kitchen and could see everything that Stiles did - or didn’t - eat. ‘Crap.’

Derek snorted.

‘I don’t usually eat this bad,’ Stiles told him. ‘I normally go round to my dad’s a couple times a week, but we all know why that hasn’t been happening recently. Plus, that means he’s been eating badly because I’m not there to nag him to eat some veggies. I generally manage to keep our meals reasonably healthy.’

‘Reasonably healthy?’

‘Did you not hear me say that we eat vegetables. Green vegetables,’ he clarified, when Derek paused to turn and stare disbelievingly at him.

Derek rolled his eyes. He pointed behind Stiles. ‘Pass me the Worcester Sauce.’

Stiles twisted around and opened the cabinet door, needing to rummage around a little before he found what Derek wanted. ‘You know, it’s pretty sad that you have a better idea of what’s in my and Scott’s kitchen than we do.’

‘Yep.’

Stiles rolled his eyes as he pulled off the cap. ‘There you go,’ he said, offering the open bottle to Derek.

Derek stepped forward and Stiles’ cell started to beep and he flailed around, trying to find it in case it was Lydia. With his body all twisted around, he froze as he heard Derek growl right in his ear. Untwisting his body, Stiles raised his eyes to see Derek holding the bottle - not that Stiles had any memory of letting it go - but somehow most of the contents has split down the front of his vest.

‘I… dude. What the hell happened?’

There were splashes of it up his arms and there were even a few drops sliding enticingly along his collarbone. Stiles had never imagined he’d think of Worcester Sauce as enticing. 

‘You happened.’ With an aborted shake of his head, Derek reached for the hem of his now wrecked vest and pulled it over his head.

Stiles stared, mouth suddenly completely dry and his jeans possibly fitting a little snugger than they had been a few seconds ago. ‘Oh my god,’ he gulped. Derek was using the vest to wipe off the remaining source and there was no way Stiles was going to survive. 

Balling up the vest, Derek threw it into the corner, next to the trash. ‘You’re lucky there’s still enough,’ he told Stiles, shaking the bottle in front of his face.

And Stiles had been about to snap back some smartass reply, but then he his brain had actually taken in what his eyes were seeing and he registered all the scars littering Derek’s chest. His mouth had stopped working, but he couldn’t help the gasp when Derek turned around and he got a load of the scars on his back, which were so much worse than his chest. Derek snapped up straight and his shoulders stiffened, like he’d completely forgotten that Stiles had never seen them before.

‘I’ll go and put on a shirt.’ Derek put down the knife and turned away, his movements stiff and controlled.

Realising his mistake, Stiles leapt off the counter and got between Derek and the exit. ‘No, I. You don’t have to.’

‘Stiles -’

Stiles scrubbed his hand over his head. ‘No, listen, look. I. It’s not. You don’t have to cover them up on my account. They don’t bother me - apart from the fact that it means you’ve nearly died a couple of times - maybe more than a couple. I’m incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of you being dead.’ He waved his hand up and down Derek’s person. ‘But seeing them, I’ve seen you get hurt to protect me -’ And the idea that Derek could _die_ protecting _Stiles_ just made his brain freeze and not want to think about it ‘- and you’re all stoic and stuff that I forget that it must really fucking hurt and is stupidly dangerous. And, yeah. So don’t feel like you have to cover them up on my account -’ Stiles moved out of the way so Derek could get past if he wanted ‘- but if you want to, that’s, you know, fine too.’

While Stiles winced at his very lame finish, it seemed to be what relaxed Derek. Naturally, he didn’t say anything, just turned back around to continue preparing their dinner.

Instead of hopping back up onto the counter behind Derek, Stiles decided to sit on the one next to him. Still out of the way of the food prep, but he could at least see Derek’s face and try to decipher what he was thinking or feeling. And, he also got a really mouthwatering view of Derek’s shoulder.

For the next couple of minutes, Stiles chattered quietly about the movie he’d gone to see with Scott and Allison the day before. It was impossible for Stiles to remain silent; it made him feel uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to say anything to raise Derek’s hackles, so a movie about a cartoon dog seemed like a safe topic.

Eventually Stiles trailed off, judging that Derek’s mood seemed fairly relaxed. ‘Can I ask about them?’ he asked cautiously.

Derek didn’t say anything so Stiles decided to take that as permission. It wasn’t like Derek wouldn’t let him know pretty sharpish if it wasn’t okay.

‘How many times have you nearly died?’ Which so hadn’t been the question he’d meant to ask first, but it was the one that was repeating in his mind. ‘I mean, can you even tell me? Because I’m not asking for the details of when, where or what in missions that obviously never happened. Even though I’m the Intersect and they’re probably all squirreled away in my brain somewhere. And I don’t mean how many times you’ve been a hairs breadth from discovery and certain doom, I mean -’

‘Stiles.’ The soft way that Derek said his name that made his head snap up and his mouth clamp shut.

Derek had stopped what he was doing and was standing there, hands resting on the counter, not looking at Stiles. It looked like he was trying to control his breathing.

‘A few.’ His voice sounded like it was being scraped raw.

Which, no. Stiles didn’t want Derek sounding like that because of his curiosity. ‘This was. Look, I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t know what I was thinking. My dad’s always telling me I speak without thinking through the consequences and usually I don’t really care, but this time I think he might be right.’

Without seeming to react to any of what had just fallen out of Stiles’ mouth, Derek threw the vegetables and everything else into a pan. He then surprised the hell out of Stiles by hopping up onto the counter he’d just cleared. With a hard look at Stiles he pointed to a puckered scar just above his heart. ‘Gunshot. Sniper.’

Stiles felt his breath catch and his eyes widen.

Derek twisted so Stiles could get a better look at a series of nasty looking scars that ran from the middle of his left side to the small of his back. ‘Stabbed and slashed…several times.’

‘They don’t look like the kind of injuries someone comes back from.’

‘We were already in a hospital.’

‘Handy.’

Derek nodded. He then stared at Stiles for a moment with a perplexed look on his face, like he couldn’t work something out. ‘Final time I was electrocuted. For hours.’ He frowned. ‘Maybe days.’

‘What? Like Rambo in _First Blood_ or Riggs in _Lethal Weapon 2_?’ Stiles’ stomach turned and he had to be flippant about it, otherwise he was likely to have to run to the bathroom and empty his stomach at the thought of Derek being fried. 

‘Those were a walk in the park comparatively.’

‘Well, shit.’

There was a slight quirk to Derek’s lips, suggesting that he wasn’t pissed with Stiles’ completely inappropriate questions. Which was kind of baffling because Derek wasn’t exactly a sharing person. He was far happier being all dark and mysterious.

Derek’s body was littered with so many more scars, and Stiles couldn’t bring himself to ask what Derek actually considered near death because a lot of them looked like they’d been serious. ‘You know, I think I liked this spy business a lot more when it was all in the movies.’ 

Derek snorted. 

Spying a faint, strangely twisted scar that ran from the inside of Derek’s elbow up to the top of his bicep, Stiles traced it with the tip of his finger. Realising exactly what he was doing he snatched his hand away. ‘Sorry. It’s just. It’s an interesting shape. How did you get that one?’

‘Laura,’ Derek growled.

‘I’m guessing that’s a person.’

‘My sister.’

‘You have a sister?’ 

Derek slumped, chin hitting his chest. ‘I - shit.’

‘Uh -?’

‘You shouldn’t know that.’

‘What? That you have sister called Laura Hale.’ And with that came a flash of images and - ‘Wow. Your sister’s a badass.’ 

Like a _major_ badass. Stiles thought he might be a little bit in love. ‘What the hell is your family gene pool like if there are two ninja Hale super spies?’

‘That’s what you shouldn’t know,’ Derek sighed, rubbing his forehead.

‘I - sorry?’ Because Stiles wasn’t too sure what he was supposed to say. He pointed at his head. ‘It’s this thing. I can’t control what it shows me.’

Derek shook his head. ‘Not your fault this time.’

‘I can pretend that I don’t know you have a kickass sister,’ Stiles offered hesitantly.

‘Just… don’t mention her if there’s anyone else around.’

There were lots of questions and comments in his head, clamouring to be said first, but Stiles was saved from having to choose one by a key turning in the front door.

Derek’s head snapped up, going to defcon one in less than a second. ‘I thought Scott was staying at Allison’s tonight.’

‘He is,’ Stiles hissed. He recoiled slightly when he realised that there was a gun in Derek’s hand. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’ It hadn’t been in the waistband of his jeans; Stiles would have seen it. Did - did Derek have weapons stashed around his and Scott’s apartment? Obviously he and Derek were going to have to have words later.

Instead of replying, Derek gestured for Stiles to be quiet and stay behind him, his eyes steady on the door as it opened.

Stiles' eyes widened as he recognised the person walking into the apartment, and he smacked Derek in the shoulder. ‘Put that away,’ he hissed. ‘It’s my dad.’

Derek’s eyes registered surprise, but he lowered the gun so that when Stiles’ dad turned to look at them, it wasn’t visible.

‘Hey, kiddo.’

‘Oh my God, dad.’ Stiles jumped down off the counter, throwing an _oh fuck_ look at Derek. ‘What are you even doing here?’ He rushed out of the kitchen and paused in the doorway.

‘I was stopping by to see my only son, the one who hasn’t been by to see me in quite a while.’ He glanced past Stiles to Derek. Hopefully the gun was already well away from the prying eyes of law enforcement fathers. ‘Although I’m beginning to see what might have been distracting you from dear old dad.’

Stiles closed his eyes because his dad looked like he was close to laughing, which wasn’t good. Not good at all.

‘I’m going to go get a shirt,’ Derek muttered, brushing past Stiles and hurrying past Stiles’ dad, studiously not meeting his gaze. And if Stiles wasn’t mortified, he’d have thought Derek booking it out of there so quickly was hilarious.

As Derek slipped out the door, Stiles’ eyes caught on the tattoo inked on Derek’s back. It was of a triskelion, nestled between his shoulder blades and solid black. Wondering why he was only noticing it now, he flinched when he realised that the reason was because he’d been so focused on Derek’s scars. 

By the time Derek had closed the door behind him, his dad was looking far less amused.

‘Stiles -’

‘Dad, I’m so, so sorry I’ve not been round to see you lately,’ Stiles said, walking forward. his hand worrying the hem of his t-shirt. ‘It’s all been kind of mental at work and Scott’s been having girlfriend like traumas. And…stuff.’

‘And the guy who walked out that door a moment ago?’

‘Is a friend..?’ And making it a question had been a terrible idea because now his dad was frowning and probably getting _ideas_

‘Kiddo, he looks a lot older than you. But the tattoos. And those scars.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s either an ex-con or -’

‘Ex-military,’ Stiles blurted out. ‘He was honourably discharged. And, you know, economic climate as it is, he’s working at the BuyMore at the moment.’

‘How much older than you is he?’

Stiles realised he had no idea how old Derek was. ‘Uh, maybe thirty, I guess.’

‘That’s seven years -’

‘Jeez, dad, I’m twenty-three. I don’t think anything we do is illegal.’ Stiles felt his entire face flame. He was defending a non-existence relationship with Derek and that was. Well, it was terrible.

It meant he was lying to his dad about more than just the spy thing and that was giving Stiles enough sleepless nights. But how did he tell his dad that Stiles wasn’t dating Derek and come up with a plausible reason why he had an insanely hot shirtless guy cooking for him in his kitchen while Scott was round at Allison’s? Why couldn’t he think of anything else? When he and Scott had been at school it had been Stiles’ quick thinking that had kept them out of trouble - or, well, _more_ trouble. So why was his brain failing him now?

On top of all that, how was he going to tell Derek that he hadn’t been able to tell his dad that they weren’t together? It was bad enough that Scott was convinced they were dating. It was worse that dad was going to think the same thing. 

‘Which is so much more than I want to know. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still a virgin and will be till you’re forty.’

‘Duly noted. But, uh, I am sorry I haven’t been round. Like, really, really sorry.’

‘It’s okay, Stiles. I remember being your age.’ He clapped Stiles on the shoulder. ‘Just.’

Stiles snorted.

‘Now give your old man a hug, huh?’

Stiles stepped into his dad’s arms, needing to atone for being a shit son. If he hugged a little tighter and longer than usual, his dad was kind enough not to mention it. As he stepped back, patting dad’s shoulder, the door opened and Derek stepped back in. He was now wearing a grey Henley, but still looked out of sorts. He shot Stiles an inscrutable glance that was probably supposed to mean something to Stiles, but really, really didn’t.

‘Derek Hale. We didn’t get introduced before.’ He held his hand out to Stiles’ dad and Stiles nearly swallowed his tongue. What was Derek playing at?

‘You mean when you were standing half naked in my son’s kitchen?’ He took Derek’s hand, though, which was something. There had been that one time when he’d thrown Stiles’ date out the house.

Derek grimaced. ‘Yeah. That.’ His nostrils flared in surprise when Stiles’ dad laughed.

‘Dad,’ Stiles whined. He loved wrong-footing Stiles’ dates. It was frustrating. Not that Derek was his date. God, but how was his life this complicated? ‘Quit it.’

Dropping Derek’s hand, he winked at him. ‘Just having a bit of fun.’

‘At my expense,’ Stiles grumbled. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Derek slide his arm around Stiles’ waist and pulled him so he was slotted against his side. Staring at his dad, he tried not to look completely out of his depth and hoped he just looked slightly embarrassed.

Why was Derek doing that? How the hell did he know that Stiles had - oh. The cameras. He must have switched the cameras back on when he’d gone back to grab a shirt. Meaning he’d heard everything. Which. Okay then.

‘So you were in the military?’

Derek nodded. ‘Navy. Ended up in the SEALS.’

‘Thought I recognised the tattoo on your arm.’

‘You were -’

‘Me? No. One of my deputies was, though. Got discharged about five years ago.’

‘Subtle, dad. Real subtle.’

‘What’d I say, son?’

‘That was like the worst code I’ve ever heard for saying you’re going to be checking into someone’s background, ever.’

He shrugged. ‘Then it’s a good thing I wasn’t trying to be subtle, isn’t it?’

Stiles groaned. ‘Why do you keep doing this to me?’

‘Because you’re my only child and I don’t want to get the call about you being found dead in a ditch somewhere.’

‘Please, dad, if Derek killed me, no-one would ever find the body.’ He winced. ‘That sounded way more comforting in my head.’

‘I can imagine,’ dad said dryly. 

Derek was shaking next to him and it took Stiles a moment to work out why. ‘Dude, are you laughing at me?’ Shoving lightly at Derek’s chest, he glanced up, looking him in the eye for the first time since Derek had put his arm around Stiles and was shocked to see there was a genuine smile on his face - one that reached his eyes and make them crinkle, just a bit. It was one of the most amazing sights Stiles had ever seen and he was lost, staring, for a moment. ‘You should smile more,’ he murmured, and then watched in amazement as Derek freaking Hale _blushed_.

The moment was broken by a pointed cough in front of them and Stiles reluctantly turned back around. Before he could speak, Derek beat him to it.

‘If it helps, I can give you the name of my captain.’

‘That’s kind of you, son, but I prefer to do my own digging.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘Dad. Derek. What are you even?’ Both of them turned to stare at him and Stiles threw up an arm in defeat - the other trapped against Derek’s side. ‘I give up. You’re both insane and coming from me, that’s saying something.’

Derek - Derek _pressed a kiss to the crown of Stiles’ head_ and he could feel the grin. ‘If you say so. But I understand your dad wanting to keep you safe.’

And he sounded so sincere that Stiles could only roll his eyes.

‘I like this one,’ dad said. ‘You can keep him if he checks out.’

Stiles groaned and hid his face against Derek’s shoulder, seeing as it was conveniently _right there_.

Dad laughed. ‘Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re still breathing, I’ll get out of your hair.’

‘I’ve made enough food for three.’

‘Thanks for the offer, Derek, but my shift starts in less than an hour, so I better get going.’

‘Just happened to be in the area, huh?’ Stiles said, slipping out from under Derek’s arm. ‘Such a lie.’

‘Half truth.’

‘Same difference.’

Pulling the door open, Stiles stepped forward to give his dad another hug. ‘I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but you’re the most awesome dad ever.’

‘So you’ll be over next week, then?’

‘Yeah, dad. I’ll be there.’ Because now that his dad thought that he’d discovered the reason behind Stiles staying away he couldn’t very well refuse. And it would be a lie to say that Stiles wasn’t happy, but how was he going to keep his dad from finding out? It was just one more thing for Stiles to try and juggle. Sooner or later he was going to drop something.

‘Good.’

He was half way across the courtyard when Stiles had a thought. ‘Hey, dad, have you eaten any vegetables since you last saw me?’

‘Do fries count?’

‘Fries?’ Stiles yelped. ‘Of course fries don’t count. Oh my god, your cholesterol must be through the roof by now.’

‘Relax, Stiles,’ he said with a grin. ‘I’ve been eating my greens.’

‘Promise?’

‘Pinky swear.’

Stiles stared hard at his dad before nodding. ‘Okay, I’m trusting you here.’ Though, he might just phone up the station and ask around, just in case.

His dad snorted. ‘Go back inside. I don’t think Derek cooked you dinner to hear you quiz me about my health.’

‘I hate you so much.’

His dad laughed and waggled his eyebrows at Stiles before turning and walking towards the exit whistling _The Stripper_.

‘Hate you so much,’ he repeated before closing the door. He turned and slumped back against the door. ‘I. That. Oh my god. I can’t decide if that was terrible or not. Was that terrible?’ He squinted at Derek. ‘You’re still laughing at me.’

‘Yeah.’

‘You realise that my dad thinks we’re dating, right? And that not only that, every time we see him, we’ll have to play along. This could be completely and utterly terrible.’

‘Yep.’ Derek left Stiles to his mini breakdown and walked back into the kitchen. ‘Dinner should be ready by now.’

‘Were you really a SEAL?’ Stiles asked, following him into the kitchen. Had he really uncovered two completely different facts about Derek in one day? ‘That smells delicious.’

‘Thanks, and yeah, I was.’

‘So when my dad does the inevitable background check..?’

‘He won’t find anything he’ll hate.’

‘Which means?’ Stiles had a feeling he should know the background of his fake boyfriend. And he was really going to have to ask Derek about that, no matter how embarrassing.

‘Joined the USN after graduating. Went in for SEAL selection. Was honourably discharged six months ago for medical reasons.’ Derek glanced at him. ‘That’s not my actual record, but it’s what your dad will find.’

Stiles bit his tongue to stop himself asking what _Derek’s_ record was. ‘Okay, so I guess that’s good. I don’t really fancy dad hunting you down to demand who you really are. That would be really awkward and not at all problematic.’

‘Here.’ Derek shoved a plate brimming with food into his hand.

‘Holy Hannah, but this looks delicious,’ Stiles breathed, his mouth watering. He grabbed a fork from the side and a coke from the fridge and followed Derek into the living room, sitting down carefully because there was no way he wanted to drop even a morsel of his dinner.

At the first mouthful, Stiles moaned as all the flavours exploded in his mouth. ‘God, Derek,’ he said after he swallowed. ‘You can really cook. Like, I mean, really cook. Scott is going to be stupid jealous when I tell him.’ 

Derek didn’t say anything, but he glanced away, looking pleased. 

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, their stomachs taking precedence over anything else, even flipping on the TV.

‘When are you seeing your dad next?’

‘Next week.’ When Derek kept staring at him, Stiles swallowed slowly. ‘Wednesday. Why?’

‘I’ll swap shifts tomorrow.’

‘Uh, okay. Why?’

‘So we can go to your dad’s.’

Some food went down the wrong way and Stiles coughed until his eyes watered. ‘You’re coming with me?’

‘Saves you from having to come up with what would no doubt be really dumb stories about me.’

Stiles put down his bowl. ‘Hey! I’m not that bad.’

Derek snorted. ‘You really are.’

Stiles froze as a thought occurred to him. ‘So, this isn’t a one time thing? I can go and see him more than this one time? Is that what you’re saying?’

‘You’ll be easier to deal with if you’re not so hung up on seeing your dad.’

And yeah, he felt so much lighter now that he’d seen his dad. He hadn’t realised just how awful he’d felt until Dad had walked through the door. What he hadn’t expected was for Derek to care.

‘Awww, Derek. You want me to be happy.’

Derek glowered at him. ‘I don’t want you making my life any more difficult than you already do.’

‘Don’t worry, dude. I know you’re a marshmallow at heart. I swear your secret is safe with me.’

Derek growled low in his throat.

‘But, really?’ He sobered up, needing at least some answers. ‘We can go and see my dad, I get that. And before I forget, I know it’s no big to you, but you have no idea how ridiculously grateful I am. But, you know, if we do this then, you know - my dad thinks we’re dating. That won’t - because he’ll -’

‘Stiles,’ Derek interrupted, his lip curling slightly in amusement. ‘I know. It’s fine.’

Stiles blinked. ‘Really? You do get that this means _faking being in a relationship_ with me? Klutzy, geeky, has no filter, me?’

‘Thanks for clarifying that for me,’ Derek said dryly.

‘But this is my dad we’re talking about. He’ll be able to tell if it’s… not convincing.’ He could feel heat radiating from his face. It’d be so much easier if Stiles didn’t have such a giant crush on Derek. It was probably easier to fake a relationship with someone you didn’t want to be with. ‘I mean, he’s a sheriff and my dad. I’ve never successfully lied to him. Just ask Scott.’

‘I’ve had to fake it with people far less appealing than you, Stiles.’

Which, what?

Because on the one hand, did that mean Derek found him appealing? 

The thing Stiles’ brain was stuck on, though, was that Derek had apparently 007ed for his country. Not only was that really all kinds of icky, Derek didn’t seem that bothered by it and that was wrong on so many levels.

Stiles promised himself that any time they were at his dad’s, Stiles wasn’t going to look at or touch Derek in any way that could be inappropriate, regardless of whether Derek said he was okay with it.

‘Stiles?’ 

Stiles blinked and started, eyes snapping to Derek, whose brow was scrunched up in a decidedly worried fashion. ‘Huh?’ 

'You spaced out for a bit.'

He shook his head. 'Sorry. You know how my brain works.'

'Are you okay with it?'

Stiles stared at him, unblinking. 'Okay with what?'

'Pretending around your dad.'

'Oh. That.' He nodded his head, not even close to knowing how to tell Derek how all the implications were freaking him out. 'Yeah. Sure.'

'But?'

Stiles shook his head, words jammed up behind his teeth, unable to sort themselves into a coherent sentence. All he knew was that the feeling of _wrong_ was undeniable. 

Derek huffed. 'You were the one who told him -'

'I know. I just. I'm still freaking out. First my dad turns up out of the blue and doesn't immediately clock that weird shit is going down. Which I'm grateful for, don't get me wrong, because I was having visions of men in black suits materialising and whisking him away to an underground bunker. Then he's not angry or disappointed with me for not visiting. Then he seems to like you. Then you set up this opportunity for me to see my dad that you didn't have to do. It's a lot to take in and I'm still reeling. I don't have any problem with being your boyfriend. Fake boyfriend,' he quickly amended, hoping Derek assumed his slightly strangled tone of voice was because he was all turned about and nothing to do with the thought of him and Derek together. ‘My brain just feels like it’s all over the place.’

'How do you manage so many words in one go?' Derek asked, but there was a relieved edge to his words. 

'Practice,' Stiles said, picking up his food again.

Derek rolled his eyes, but the tension that had started to creep in around his shoulders as Stiles had freaked out, disappeared and he resumed eating. 

Derek nudged Stiles with his knee. 'You going to want any carrot cake after?'

Stiles moaned around the spaghetti he was chewing. 'You have carrot cake, too?’ 

‘It’s from the bakery from down the road.’

‘They make the best everything. I’ve eaten an entire pecan pie from there before. I nearly burst, but it was so worth it.’ He glanced at Derek. ‘Do you have cream, too?’

‘Of course.’ 

‘I think you’re gonna have to carry me to my room after this because there’s no way I’m going to be able to move.’ Stiles put his now empty plate on the table and collapsed back against the sofa, his shoulder pressed against Derek’s. ‘If you ever decide to stop being a ninja, you could totally be a mega successful cook.’ 

Derek huffed. 

‘I’m serious.’

‘You’re ridiculous,’ Derek told him, picking up their plates and taking them into the kitchen. 

‘Hey,’ Stiles called, as Derek moved about the kitchen. No doubt cutting them both slices of carrot cake. Stiles’ mouth watered from the thought alone. ‘How do you feel about _Alias_?’

‘Why are you asking about my alias’?’ Derek asked, carrying two plates over to the sofa and sitting down. 

‘I’m not. It’s - nevermind.’ Stiles grabbed the PS3 controller and logged into Netflix. It wasn’t _The Shield_ , which Stiles had started Derek on, but he didn’t think he was in the mood for gritty realism and, really, _Alias_ could only be hilarious when watching it with a real life ninja spy. ‘Dude, I expect a full report on whether or not this is an accurate representation of your life up to this point.’ 

Derek threw him a dubious look, but didn’t actually protest, so Stiles took that as permission to proceed full steam ahead. 

As the first episode began to play, Stiles settled down in the sofa, cake in hand and Derek close, but not quite touching. He couldn’t wait to see how Derek reacted to Sydney Bristow and SD-6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You know everyone knows, right?’ Isaac said, hopping up onto the Nerd desk, feet swinging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, so if you see any hideous mistakes, let me know.

‘You know everyone knows, right?’ Isaac said, hopping up onto the Nerd desk, feet swinging. 

It was Harris’ day off and everyone was taking full advantage of it. And, to Stiles’ mind, working a hell of a lot harder than they did when Harris was breathing down their necks and being petty. 

‘Knows about what?’ Stiles asked, tapping his pen idly against the counter. 

‘Uh, you and Hale,’ Isaac said, like it was obvious. 

Stiles dropped his pen. 

‘It’s not like you two are subtle.’

‘Subtle about what?’ Stiles asked faintly. 

Isaac smirked. ‘The fact that you’re having sex all over the place.’ 

Stiles felt his face flush hot and his mouth dropped open as he spluttered. ‘We… we aren’t.’

‘No need to be all coy, Stiles.’

‘I’m not being coy. I’m not. There is nothing coy about me. Why… why do you think..?’

‘Why does the entire store think that you two are screwing like rabbits?’ 

Stiles nodded. ‘Yeah, that,’ he said weakly. 

Isaac frowned thoughtfully. ‘You mean other than the fact that when Hale isn’t standing less than two feet from you, or watching you creepily without even blinking, you’re hardly able to stop watching him?’ 

Which was pretty much identical to the list Scott had given him weeks ago. Fuck. ‘When you put it like that, I can see why you’d think that.’

‘Plus, you disappear together all the time.’

‘Not to mention how he touches you like he doesn’t know how to stop, while maintaining a three feet radius with everyone else,’ added Danielle from behind him.

Stiles flailed wildly and ended up tipping off his chair and onto the floor. He hadn’t even seen her arrive. 'How, how did you do that?'

'Derek's been teaching me,' she said to Stiles' horror. 'Says moving quietly through the store allows you to hear what the customers are thinking.'

'I'm going to kill him,' Stiles grumbled, standing and straightening his shirt. 

'If by kill you mean blow, I believe you,' Danielle said with a wicked grin. 

'You are the worst,' he told her, feeling his face flush. 'I'm not going to blow Derek. And definitely not here.' Stiles realised his mistake the second the words were out of his mouth. 'I'm not going to blow Derek _anywhere_.'

'Well, that's disappointing to hear,' Derek said. 

Horrified that Derek had overheard any of that, Stiles spun around, fully expecting to be met by Derek's formidable scowl. To his surprise, there was a ever so slightly teasing grin on his face. Even his eyes seemed bright with amusement and they were far more reliable for gauging Derek’s actual mood. 

'Uh -'

Derek reached over and snagged Stiles' tie, dragging him around the desk until he was standing by the entrance. Stiles watched as Derek lifted the counter top and squeaked when he was pulled through the gap. 

‘If you’ll excuse us,’ he said to the others, pulling Stiles along by his tie. 

It took a few seconds, but as Derek approached the entertainment room, everyone standing around the Nerd desk started cheering and wolf whistling. 

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Stiles hissed. 

Derek pushed him inside and closed all the blinds. Only when no-one could see in and the door was shut did Derek turn to look at him. ‘I was in Castle with Lydia -’

‘Oh my god, kill me now,’ Stiles groaned. 

‘We agreed that everyone thinking you and I are together is no bad thing.’ 

‘Are you for real?’ 

It was one thing for Scott to think they were together; he didn't care much past Stiles being happy. It was another for his dad to know because that was only for a few hours every week and Stiles was surviving that. Just. If he had to spend most of his time faking being with Derek, he wasn't sure he'd actually survive long enough to get the Intersect out of his head. 

‘It’s a good reason for why we’re always together and if we have to sneak out, that lot will most likely cover for us, under the impression that we’re fooling around somewhere.’ 

‘But what about Scott?’ 

‘What about him? He already thinks you’re sneaking into my apartment for sex, anyway.’

Which Stiles couldn’t argue with. Scott kept winking at him and making some impressively lewd comments whenever Stiles walked through the front door. Thanks to the cameras, Derek was also hearing all Scott’s comments, so Stiles just shrugged. 

‘You know, if you keep blushing like that, people are going to guess pretty quickly that something is off.’ 

Stiles scowled. He wasn’t usually easy to embarrass, but he maintained that it was Derek’s fault. If Stiles was either uninterested in Derek or merely thought he was hot like burning, he’d kill at faking it. But he was interested and it was about so much more than Derek’s insane good looks. 

‘Shut up,’ Stiles grumbled, unable to think of anything better to say. 

Derek seemed to know that and he grinned. Then he gave Stiles a little shove, making him fall back against the blinds. 

‘What was that for?’ Stiles demanded, straightening up. 

‘Authenticity,’ Derek said with a smirk that made Stiles go ever-so-slightly weak at the knees. ‘We need them to think that there’s something going on in here.’ 

‘Something - oh. _Oh_.’

Derek ran a finger along Stile’ cheekbone. ‘You should probably look a bit flushed and out of breath when we go back out there.’ 

Stiles suppressed a whimper and glared at Derek. ‘How long is this “authentic something” going to last?’

With a shrug, Derek said, ‘A little while.’ He glanced slyly at Stiles. ‘Don’t want any of them thinking that we have a lackluster sex life.’

Stiles banged his head against the glass, knocking the blinds. ‘Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about?’ 

Derek frowned and cupped the back of Stiles’ head with a hand. ‘Careful. I’m not saving your life on a weekly basis so you can scramble your brain in the benign safety of the entertainment room.’

‘You’re hilarious,’ Stiles snapped. ‘Can we leave yet?’

Derek shook his head. ‘Not yet.’ He leaned in close, bracing the arm not cradling Stiles’ head, against the window.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Stiles virtually squeaked. 

‘Some of your friends are moving around out there.’

‘Of course they are,’ Stiles muttered. 

‘So they need to think there’s something going on in here.’

‘Of course they do.’

Derek huffed in amusement. 

‘I have the worst friends.’

‘I don’t know about that, but they are definitely some of the least subtle people I’ve ever met.’

‘In their defence, they don’t know that you’re a ninja assassin and they’re assuming that you’re being all distracted by the hotness of me.’ 

Derek considered that for a moment. ‘Fair.’ 

For the next few minutes Derek remained where he was - occasionally knocking the blinds like there was really something going on.

Stiles, for his part, tried to ignore the heat emanating from Derek’s body, the way his biceps were bulging in the polo neck t-shirt and right next to Stiles’ face and how enticing he smelt. Everything about him was so distracting that by the time Derek straightened and moved slightly away, Stiles couldn’t say if they’d been there a few minutes or an hour. 

‘Are you satisfied that they'll be suitably impressed with our endurance?’ Stiles snarked, trying (and failing spectacularly) to get back some equilibrium. 

Derek didn’t reply, instead opening the blinds Stiles wasn’t leaning against. In all honesty, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure he could stand yet, and he was grateful that Derek was leaving him be for a moment. 

When Derek finally tugged him away from the window so he could fix the blinds, he kept an arm around Stiles’ waist and then steered him towards the door. 

The cheering and catcalling that echoed through the practically deserted store made Stiles hide his face against Derek’s shoulder, but he did raise his fist in the air triumphantly. 

Derek made a questioning noise and Stiles turned his head, cheek resting on Derek’s shoulder. ‘If this were real, I’d totally have done that.’ 

There was a soft smile on Derek’s face and Stiles felt his breath catch. He was already so gone on Derek that he was completely screwed. 

Derek leaned in close, his lips almost touching Stiles’. ‘I can pull back,’ he murmured. 

‘After we’ve been doing an enthusiastic something so impressively, I think it’d be a little weird if I freaked out because of a kiss.’

Derek nodded and closed the distance. It was close-mouthed and chaste; adorable, even, after what everyone thought they’d been up to in the entertainment room. It made Stiles’ stomach plummet and his heart soar. 

Yep. He was so screwed. 

Derek walked him over to the Nerd Desk, and it was so sweet it made Stiles’ teeth hurt. He then went over to a customer, leaving Stiles to grit his teeth through Isaac and Danielle’s teasing. 

How the hell was he going to survive a fake relationship with Derek and keep his heart in tact?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr at ionaonie.tumblr.com


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Oh shit, shit, shit,’ Stiles chanted, hands high in the air, staring at the barrel of the gun that was pointed at him. ‘I am going to be in so much trouble and it’s not even my fault this time.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, uh, 16 months since the last update. I did not think it had been that long. Hopefully there won't be such a wait for the next chapter *fingers crossed*
> 
> Not betaed, so if you see any hideous mistakes, let me know.

‘Oh shit, shit, shit,’ Stiles chanted, hands high in the air, staring at the barrel of the gun that was pointed at him. ‘I am going to be in so much trouble and it’s not even my fault this time.’

The big guy with the gun, who had muscles that possibly rivaled Derek’s, gestured for Stiles to walk in front of him and Stiles shook his head vehemently. ‘If you’re going to shoot me, I’d prefer to see it coming.’ 

‘Who said I’m going to shoot you?’ the guy asked, sounding deeply amused.

‘If you’re not going to shoot me, why are you pointing a gun at me? In my experience people only point guns at me when they want me dead.’ 

Even Derek hadn’t pointed a gun at him since the day they’d first met on the rooftop. And Derek regularly acted like he’d like nothing more than be able to silence Stiles. Permanently. 

‘Maybe I wanted to stop you from shooting me?’ 

‘But I don’t even have a gun!’ Stiles virtually shouted, before slapping his hands over his mouth. Derek didn’t like it when he told the bad guys he wasn’t armed. ‘Shit.’

The guy cocked his head. ‘Why are you here if you’re not armed?’ 

‘A question I ask myself regularly,’ Stiles said, letting his hands drop to his sides. ‘And I never get a satisfactory answer.’

‘It’s because,’ Derek’s voice said, even though Stiles couldn’t see him, ‘I’m more worried about you shooting yourself in the foot if I give you a gun.’ Derek moved silently into view from around the corner and Stiles nearly collapsed in relief. ‘Than you being shot by someone else.’ 

‘That’s fair,’ Stiles said. ‘There’s a reason I’m banned from the firing range.’ 

Stiles honestly didn’t think he was that bad. Even though he wasn’t a fan of guns, dad had still installed proper gun use in him. Most of his nerves the day Lydia and Derek had marched him into the range had been because he had a computer in his head, people trying to kill him, Lydia’s glare was unnerving and Derek’s mere presence was as distracting as hell. But he’d still not been allowed back in there since. 

The guy with the gun relaxed his stance, flicked on the safety and let the gun dangle from his thumb as he raised his hands. ‘Hale?’ 

Derek blinked in surprise. ‘Boyd?’ 

‘Can I turn around or are you going to shoot me?’ 

Derek’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why were you pointing your gun at Stiles?’ 

The guy - Boyd, apparently - glanced over at him, an amused smirk on his lips. ‘Oh, so this is Stiles, is it?’ 

Derek growled. 

‘Relax, Derek. I was looking for someone and I stumbled upon your cute little analyst -’ 

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up and even Derek looked surprised. 

‘Erica’s words, not mine. But I stumbled upon him and had no clue who he was, and if he might be the person I’m looking for.’ 

Derek had been moving steadily towards Stiles while Boyd had been talking and once he was between them he re-holstered his gun, gesturing for Boyd to do the same. 

Once all the guns were put away, Stiles felt significantly better. ‘Uh, I have a question.’ 

‘Of course you do,’ Derek sighed. 

‘How do you know Erica?’ he asked Boyd.

Boyd grinned. ‘She’s my fiancee.’ 

Stiles glanced over at Derek in confusion. ‘What now?’ 

Derek’s pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. ‘Stiles, this is Vernon Boyd. Boyd, Stiles.’

‘Nobody calls me Vernon,’ Boyd said. Despite the amused tone Stiles got the distinct impression that Boyd was a) serious and b) retribution would be swift and painful. 

‘Right. But, uh, Erica..?’

Boyd grinned. ‘Completely taken.’

‘Yeah, not really my question.’ Stiles glanced around, almost expecting to see her come waltzing down one of the corridors. ‘But, uh, she’s not here, is she?’ 

To his surprise Boyd laughed. ‘No, she’s not here. But I’m telling her you said that.’ 

Stiles groaned. ‘She’ll totally kill me.’ 

Boyd shrugged. ‘You should have thought of that before saying anything.’ 

‘But you two know each other?’ He pointed back and forth between Derek and Boyd. ‘Like, that was my question.’

Derek was too busy looking all put upon to say anything, but Boyd nodded. ‘Yeah, we know each other.’ 

‘Can you tell me how or would you have to kill me after?’ 

With a laugh, Boyd said, ‘I’d have to kill you after.’

‘No,’ Derek said, with a pained sigh. ‘You wouldn’t. His security clearance is higher than ours.’ 

Boyd looked taken aback by that, but Stiles was stunned. Not by his clearance level; he knew that. But by the fact that Derek had told Boyd. He had to know that Stiles would press for all the stories Boyd could tell him about Derek. 

Boyd turned back to Stiles, his gaze sharp and interested this time. ‘Well, in that case, we met in Benghazi for a joint operation between our departments -’ 

The flash caught Stiles off guard, but Derek seemed to be ready for it, because while images flashed in front of Stiles’ eyes, Derek stepped partly in front of him, hiding him from Boyd as Boyd kept talking. 

Stiles rested a hand against Derek’s back, just in case he lost his balance, but the flash ended without him falling on his ass or anything else embarrassing and Boyd was none the wiser. 

He tuned back into what Boyd was saying just in time to hear him say, ‘And after that, I decided Derek was an okay guy and I could live with the scowling and growling.’ 

Stiles nodded weakly, and dredged up something that could be called a smile in some circles. 

‘We should get back to Lydia,’ Derek said. ‘She’s looking through some of the files we found.’ 

‘She’ll kill us if we flake out,’ Stiles said.

Derek hummed in agreement, but he was watching Stiles carefully, obviously aware that he was still feeling a little wobbly. When Stiles gave him a small nod, Derek straightened. ‘We should go.’ 

‘You don’t mind me tagging along?’ Boyd asked. 

‘Not when I’m curious about why you’re here.’ 

Boyd snorted, but he set off down the corridor Derek gestured towards, apparently fine with showing Derek his back. 

Stiles took the opportunity to lean into Derek’s space. ‘Your friend is kinda badass.’ 

Derek grunted, but didn’t say anything else. 

Stiles grinned and knocked his arm against Derek’s. ‘But not as badass as you, don’t worry.’

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘Shut up and keep up.’ 

Grinning to himself, Stiles bit his lip, ducking his head so hopefully Derek wouldn’t notice the slight blush he could feel on his cheeks. 

‘Why are you here?’ Derek asked Boyd, as they walked back through the maze of corridors. ‘You said you were looking for someone?’ 

‘Yeah. I’m guessing that no-one was here when you arrived.’

‘No-one,’ Derek confirmed. ‘They did seem to leave in a hurry, though. As far as we can tell, they didn’t take anything with them. Who are you looking for?’

‘On the hunt for a double agent. Someone working for the Argents.’

Stiles felt Derek go tense next to him. 

‘And you’re here because?’

‘Because the trail led to LA,’ Boyd said, sounding frustrated. ‘The trail went cold a couple of days ago and I thought I’d got another lead, but it led me here...’ 

‘And everyone here has already up and gone,’ Derek concluded. 

‘Exactly.’ He turned to look at Derek. ‘I don’t suppose you might have any ideas? Or, even better, someone who might spring to mind?’ 

Derek was still for a moment, but then he shook his head. ‘Nothing immediately comes to mind. Sorry.’ 

Boyd shrugged. ‘It was worth a shot.’

‘Trying to get me to do your work for you?’ Derek asked. He sounded amused, but there was line of tension running through him and Stiles couldn’t work out why. 

‘Do you blame me?’ Boyd asked. ‘You’re a paranoid bastard and you suspect everyone of everything. I’m surprised you didn’t have a file all ready to hand to me.’ 

Stiles snorted, because, yeah. That sounded exactly like Derek. 

‘Sorry to disappoint,’ Derek said. 

‘Find something that’ll help me and we’ll call it even.’ 

Derek grunted, but he didn’t refuse or agree. Instead he said, ‘We need to get to Lydia. Maybe she’s found something that will help by now.’


End file.
